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O*  ■’ 


PLUTARCH’S  LIVES 


TRANSLATED 

ifrnni  tip  dDriginiil  #mk, 

WITH 

NOTES,  HISTORICAL  AND  CRITICAL, 

AND 

A  LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 

BY 

JOHN  LANGHORNE,  M.D., 

AND 

WILLIAM  LANGHORNE,  M. A. 

Gratefully  corrected,  atftt  jmntetr  from  t£e  last  Hontroix  IBtrlttoii 

IN  FOUR  VOLUMES 

YOL.  I. 


NEW  YORK: 

HARPER  <fc  BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS, 
329  &  331  PEARL  STREET, 

FRANKLIN  SQUARE. 

18  78. 


*  » 


. 


y  * 


TO  T11E  RIGHT  HONOURABLE 


f>74 

'WZ 

V<\ 


LORD  FOLKESTONE. 


MY  LORD, 

The  style  and  genius  of  dedications,  in  general, 
have  neither  done  honour  to  the  patron  nor  to  the 
author.  Sensible  of  this,  we  intended  to  have 
published  a  'work,  which  has  been  the  labour  of 
years,  without  the  usual  mode  of  soliciting  pro¬ 
tection.  An  accident  has  brought  us  into  the 
number  of  dedicators.  Had  not  you  accompanied 
your  noble  father  to  our  humble  retreat,  we  should 
still  have  been  unacquainted  with  your  growing 
virtues, — your  extraordinary  erudition,  and  per¬ 
fect  knowledge  of  the  Greek  language  and  learn¬ 
ing;  and  Plutarch  would  have  remained  as  he  did 
in  his  retirement  at  Chaeronea,  where  he  sought 
no  patronage  but  in  the  bosom  of  philosophy. 

Accept,  my  Lord,  this  honest  token  of  respect. 
from  men,  who,  equally  independent  and  unam 


DEDICATION. 


bitious,  wish  only  for  the  countenance  of  genius 
and  friendship.  Praise,  my  Lord,  is  the  usual 
language  of  dedications:  But  will  our  praise  be 
of  value  to  you? — Will  any  praise  be  of  value 
to  you,  but  that  of  your  own  heart?  Follow  the 
example  of  the  Earl  of  Radnor,  your  illustrious 
father.  Like  him  maintain  that  temperate  spirit 
of  policy,  which  consults  the  dignity  of  govern¬ 
ment,  while  it  supports  the  liberty  of  the  subject. 
But  we  put  into  your  hands  the  best  of  political 
preceptors, — a  preceptor  who  trained  to  virtue 
the  greatest  monarch  upon  earth ;  and,  by  giving 
happiness  to  the  world,  enjoyed  a  pleasure  some¬ 
thing  like  that  of  the  Benevolent  Being  who 
created  it.  We  are,  My  Lord, 

Your  Lordship?s 
Most  obedient,  and 
Very  humble  Servants, 


J.  &  W.  LANGHORNE 


CONTENTS 


OF 

THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 


Hag* 

Plutuieh  .  . .  . . 1 

Theseus .  29 

Romulus . 57 

Romulus  and  Theseus  compared .  91 

Lycurgus .  96 

Numa .  132 

.Numa  and  Lycurgus  compared .  161 

Solon . 167 

Publicola .  200 

Solon  and  Publicola  compared . .  .  221 

Themistocles .  225* 

Camillus .  258 

Pericles .  296 

Fabius  Maximus . 334 

Pericles  and  Fabius  Maximus  compared . 361 

Alcibiades  .  . .  364 

Oaius  Marcius  Coriolanus . 403 

Alcibiades  and  Coriolanus  compared .  436 


Y  '  ) 

PREFACE. 


If  the  merit  of  a  work  may  be  estimated  from 
the  universality  of  its  reception,  Plutarch’s  Lives 
have  a  claim  to  the  first  honours  of  literature.  No 
book  has  been  more  generally  sought  after,  or  read 
with  greater  avidity.  It  was  one  of  the  first  that 
were  brought  out  of  the  retreats  of  the  learned,  and 
translated  into  the  modern  languages.  Amiot, 
Abbe  of  Bellozane,  published  a  French  translation 
of  it  in  the  reign  of  Henry  II.;  and  from  that  work 
it  was  translated  into  English,  in  the  time  of  queen 
Elizabeth. 

It  is  said  by  those  who  are  not  willing  to  allow 
Shakspeare  much  learning,  that  he  availed  him¬ 
self  of  the  last-mentioned  translation;  but  they 
seem  to  forget,  that,  in  order  to  support  their  argu¬ 
ments  of  this  kind,  it  is  necessary  for  them  to  prove 
that  Plato,  too,  was  translated  into  English  at  the 
same  time;  for  the  celebrated  soliloquy,  “To  be, 
or  not  to  be,”  is  taken,  almost  verbatim,  from  that 
philosopher;  yet  we  have  never  found  that  Plato 
was  translated  in  those  times. 

Amiot  was  a  man  of  great  industry  and  conside¬ 
rable  learning.  He  sought  diligently  in  the  libra¬ 
ries  of  Rome  and  Venice  for  those  Lives  of  Plutarch 
which  are  lost;  and  though  his  search  was  unsuc¬ 
cessful,  it  had  this  good  effect,  that,  by  meeting 
with  a  variety  of  manuscripts,  and  comparing  them 
with  the  printed  copies,  he  was  enabled,  in  many 


VI II 


PREFACE. 


places,  to  rectify  the  text.  This  was  a  very  essen¬ 
tial  circumstance;  for  few  ancient  writers  had 
suffered  more  than  Plutarch  from  the  carelessness 
of  printers  and  transcribers;  and,  with  all  his 
merit,  it  was  his  fate,  for  a  long  time,  to  find  no 
able  restorer.  The  schoolmen  despised  his  Gieek, 
because  it  had  not  the  purity  of  Xenophon,  nor  the 
Attic  terseness  of  Aristophanes;  ana,  on  that  ac¬ 
count,  very  unreasonably  bestowed  their  labours 
on  those  that  wanted  them  less.  Amiot’s  transla¬ 
tion  was  published  in  the  year  1558;  but  no  re¬ 
putable  edition  of  the  Greek  text  of  Plutarch 
appeared  till  that  of  Paris  in  1 624.  The  above- 
mentioned  translation,  however,  though  drawn 
from  an  imperfect  text,  passed  through  many  edi¬ 
tions,  and  was  still  read,  till  Dacier,  under  better 
auspices,  and  in  better  times,  attempted  a  new  one, 
which  he  executed  with  great  elegance,  and  tole¬ 
rable  accuracy.  The  text  he  followed  was  not  so 
correct  as  might  have  been  wished ;  for  the  London 
edition  of  Plutarch  was  not  then  published.  How¬ 
ever,  the  French  language  being  at  that  time  in 
great  perfection,  and  the  fashionable  language  of 
almost  every  court  in  Europe,  Dacier’s  translation 
came  not  only  into  the  libraries,  but  into  the  hands 
of  men.  Plutarch  was  universally  read,  and  no 
book  in  those  times  had  a  more  extensive  sale,  or 
went  through  a  greater  number  of  impressions. 
The  translator  had,  indeed,  acquitted  himself  in 
one  respect  with  great  happiness.  His  book  was 
not  found  to  be  French  Greek.  He  had  carefully 
followed  that  rule,  which  no  translator  ought  ever 
to  lose  sight  of,  the  great  rule  of  humouring  the 
genius,  and  maintaining  the  structure  of  his. own 
language.  For  this  purpose  he  frequently  broke 
the  long  and  embarrassed  periods  of  the  Greek; 
and  by  dividing  and  shortening  them  in  his  transla- 


PREFACE. 


tion,  he  gave  them  greater  perspicuity,  and  a  more 
easy  movement.  Yet  still  he  was  faithful  to  his 
original;  and  where  he  did  not  mistake  him, 
which,  indeed,  he  seldom  did,  conveyed  his  ideas 
with  clearness,  though  not  without  verbosity.  His 
translation  had  another  distinguished  advantage. 
He  enriched  it  with  a  variety  of  explanatory  notes. 
There  are  so  many  readers  who  have  no  competent 
acquaintance  with  the  customs  of  antiquity,  the 
laws  of  the  ancient  states,  the  ceremonies  of  their 
religion,  and  the  remoter  and  minuter  parts  of  their 
history  and  genealogy,  that  to  have  an  account  of 
these  matters  ever  before  the  eye,  and  to  travel 
with  a  guide  who  is  ready  to  describe  to  us  every 
object  wre  are  unacquainted  with,  is  a  privilege 
equally  convenient  and  agreeable.  But  here  the 
annotator  ought  to  have  stopped.  Satisfied  with 
removing  the  difficulties  usually  arising  in  the  cir¬ 
cumstances  above-mentioned,  he  should  not  have 
swelled  his  pages  with  idle  declamations  on  trite 
morals,  and  obvious  sentiments.  Amiot’s  margins, 
indeed,  are  every  where  crowded  with  such.  In 
those  times  they  followed  the  method  of  the  old 
divines,  which  was  to  make  practical  improve¬ 
ments  of  every  matter;  but  it  is  somewhat  strange 
that  Dacier,  who  wTrote  in  a  more  enlightened  age, 
should  fall  into  that  beaten  track  of  insipid  moraliz¬ 
ing,  and  be  at  pains  to  say  wdiat  every  one  must 
know.  Perhaps,  as  the  commentator  of  Plutarch, 
he  considered  himself  as  a  kind  of  travelling  com¬ 
panion  to  the  reader;  and,  agreeably  to  the  man¬ 
ners  of  his  country,  he  meant  to  show  his  politeness 
by  never  holding  his  peace.  The  apology  ne  makes 
for  deducing  and  detailing  these  flat  precepts,  is 
the  view  of  instructing  younger  minds.  He  had 
not  philosophy  enough  to  consider,  that  to  antici¬ 
pate  the  conclusions  of  such  minds,  in  their  pursuit 

VOL.  i.  n 


X 


PREFACE. 


of  history  and  characters,  is  to  prevent  their  proper 
effect.  When  examples  are  placed  before  them, 
they  will  not  fail  to  make  right  inferences;  but  if 
those  are  made  for  them,  the  didactic  air  of  infor¬ 
mation  destroys  their  influence. 

After  the  old  English  translation  of  Plutarch, 
which  was  professedly  taken  from  Amiot’s  French, 
no  other  appeared  till  the  time  of  Dryden.  That 
great  man,  who  is  never  to  be  mentioned  without 
pity  and  admiration,  was  prevailed  upon,  by  his 
necessities,  to  head  a  company  of  translators,  and 
to  lend  the  sanction  of  his  glorious  name  to  a  trans¬ 
lation  of  Plutarch,  written,  as  he  himself  acknow¬ 
ledges,  by  almost  as  many  hands  as  there  were 
lives.  That  this  motley  work  was  full  of  errors, 
inequalities,  and  inconsistencies,  is  not  in  the  least 
to  be  wondered  at.  Of  such  a  variety  of  transla¬ 
tors,  it  would  have  been  very  singularif  some  had 
not  failed  in  learning,  and  some  in  language.  The 
truth  is,  that  the  greatest  part  of  them  were  defi¬ 
cient  in  both.  Indeed,  their  task  was  not  easy. 
To  translate  Plutarch,  under  any  circumstances, 
would  require  no  ordinary  skill  in  the  language  and 
antiquities  of  Greece;  but  to  attempt  it  whilst  the 
text  was  in  a  depraved  state;  unsettled  and  unrec¬ 
tified  ;  abounding  with  errors,  misnomers,  and 
transpositions;  this  required  much  greater  abilities 
than  fell  to  the  lot  of  that  body  of  translators  in 
general.  It  appears,  however,  from  the  execution 
of  their  undertaking,  that  they  gave  themselves  no 
great  concern  about  the  difficulties  that  attended 
it.  Some  few  blundered  at  the  Greek ;  some  drew 
from  the  Scholiast’s  Latin ;  and  others,  more  hum¬ 
ble,  trod  scrupulously  in  the  paces  of  Amiot.  Thus 
copying  the  idioms  of  different  languages,  they  pro¬ 
ceeded  like  the  workmen  at  Babel,  and  fell  into  a 
confusion  of  tongues,  while  they  attempted  to 


PREFACE. 


Xl' 


speak  the  same.  But  the  diversities  of  style  were 
not  the  greatest  faults  of  this  strange  translation. 
It  was  full  of  the  grossest  errors.  Ignorance  on  the 
one  hand,  and  hastiness  or  negligence  on  the  other, 
had  filled  it  with  absurdities  in  every  life,  and  in¬ 
accuracies  in  almost  every  page.  The  language, 
in  general,  was  insupportably  tame,  tedious,  and 
embarrassed.  The  periods  had  no  harmony ;  the 
phraseology  had  no  elegance,  no  spirit,  no  precision. 

Yet  this  "is  the  last  translation  of  Plutarch’s  Lives 
that  has  appeared  in  the  English  language,  and  the 
only  one  that  is  now  read. 

It  must  be  owned,  that  when  Dacier’s  translation 
came  abroad,  the  proprietor  of  Dryd  era’s  copy  en¬ 
deavoured  to  repair  it.  But  how  was  this  done? 
Not  by  the  application  of  learned  men,  who  might 
have  rectified  the  errors  by  consulting  the  original, 
but  by  a  mean  recourse  to  the  labours  of  Dacier. 
Where  the  French  translator  had  diit'ered  from  the 
English,  the  opinions  of  the  latter  were  religiously 
given  up;  and  sometimes  a  period,  and  sometimes 
a  page,  were  translated  anew  from  Dacier ;  while, 
in  due  compliment  to  him,  the  idiom  of  his  lan¬ 
guage,  and  every  tour  d' expression,  were  most  scru¬ 
pulously  preserved.  Nay,  the  editors  of  that  edi¬ 
tion,  which  was  published  in  1727,  did  more. 
They  not  only  paid  Dacier  the  compliment  of 
mixing  his  French  with  their  English,  but  while 
they  borrowed  his  notes,  they  adopted  even  the 
most  frivolous  and  superfluous  comments  that 
escaped  his  pen. 

Thus  the  English  Plutarch’s  Lives,  at  first  so 
heterogeneous  and  .absurd, received  but  little  benefit 
from  this  whimsical  reparation.  Dacier’s  best 
notes  were,  indeed,  of  some  value ;  but  the  patch- 
work  alterations  the  editors  had  drawn  from  his 
translation,  made  their  book  appear  still  more  like 


xii 


PREFACE. 


Otway’s  Old  Woman,  whose  gown  >f  many  cvr* 
lours  spoke 

- variety  of  wretchedness. 

This  translation  continued  in  the  same  form  up* 
wards  of  thirty  years.  But  in  the  year  1758,  the 
proprietor  engaged  a  gentleman  of  abilities,  very 
different  from  those  who  had  formerly  been  em¬ 
ployed,  to  give  it  a  second  purgation.  He  suc¬ 
ceeded  as  well  as  it  was  possible  for  any  man  of 
the  best  judgment  and  learning  to  succeed,  in  an 
attempt  of  that  nature ;  that  is  to  say,  he  rectified 
a  multitude  of  errors,  and  in  many  places  endea¬ 
voured  to  mend  the  miserable  language.  Two  of 
the  Lives  he  translated  anew ;  and  this  he  executed 
in  such  a  manner,  that,  had  he  done  the  whole,  the 
present  translators  would  never  have  thought  of 
the  undertaking.  But  two  Lives  out  of  fifty  made 
a  very  small  part  of  this  great  wrork ;  and  though 
he  rectified  many  errors  in  the  old  translation,  yet, 
where  almost  every  thing  was  error,  it  is  no  won¬ 
der  if  many  escaped  him.  This  was  indeed  the 
case.  In  the  course  of  our  Notes,  we  had  remarked 
a  great  number ;  but,  apprehensive  that  such  a  con¬ 
tinual  attention  to  the  faults  of  a  former  translation 
might  appear  invidious,  we  expunged  the  greatest 
part  of  the  remarks,  and  suffered  such  only  to  re¬ 
main  as  might  testify  the  propriety  of  our  present 
undertaking.  Besides,  though  the  ingenious  reviser 
of  the  edition  of  1758  might  repair  the  language 
where  it  was  most  palpably  deficient,  it  was  im¬ 
possible  for  him  to  alter  the  cast  and  complexion 
of  the  whole.  It  w  ould  still  retain  its  inequalities, 
its  tameness,  and  heavy  march;  its  mixture  of 
idioms,  and  the  irksome  train  of  far-connected  pe¬ 
riods.  These  it  still  retains;  and,  after  all  the  ope 
rations  it  has  gone  through,  remains 


PREFACE. 


xiii 


Like  some  patch’d  dog-hole,  eked  with  ends  of  wall ! 

In  tins  view  of  things  the  necessity  of  a  new  trans¬ 
lation  is  obvious ;  and  the  hazard  does  not  appear 
to  he  great.  With  such  competitors  for  the  public 
favour,  the  contest  has  neither  glory  nor  danger 
attending  it.  But  the  labour  and  attention  neces¬ 
sary,  as  well  to  secure  as  to  obtain  that  favour,  nei¬ 
ther  are  nor  ought  to  be  less ;  and  with  whatever 
success  the  present  translators  may  he  thought  to 
have  executed  their  undertaking,  they  will  always 
at  least  have  the  merit  of  a  diligent  desire  to  dis¬ 
charge  this  public  duty  faithfully. 

Where  the  text  of  Plutarch  appeared  to  them 
erroneous,  they  have  spared  no  pains,  and  neglected 
no  means  in  their  power,  to  rectify  it. 

Sensible  that  the  great  art  of  a  translator  is  to 
prevent  the  peculiarities  of  his  author’s  language 
from  stealing  into  his  own,  they  have  been  particu¬ 
larly  attentive  to  this  point,  and  have  generally 
endeavoured  to  keep  their  English  unmixed  with 
Greek.  At  the  same  time,  it  must  be  observed, 
that  there  is  frequently  a  great  similarity  in  the 
structure  of  the  two  languages;  yet  that  resem¬ 
blance,  in  some  instances,  makes  it  more  necessary 
to  guard  against  it  on  the  whole.  This  care  is  of 
the  greater  consequence,  because  Plutarch’s  Lives 
generally  pass  through  the  hands  of  young  people, 
who  ought  to  read  their  own  language  in  its  native 
purity,  unmixed  and  untainted  with  the  idioms  of 
different  tongues.  For  their  sakes,  too,  as  well  as 
for  the  sake  of  readers  of  a  different  class,  we  have 
omitted  some  passages  in  the  text,  and  have  only 
signified  the  omission  by  asterisms.  Some,  per¬ 
haps,  may  censure  us  for  taking  too  great  a  liberty 
with  our  author  in  this  circumstance.  However, 
we  must  beg  leave,  in  that  instance,  to  abide  by  our 

2 


xiv 


PREFACE. 


own  opinion ;  and  sure  we  are,  that  we  should  have 
censured  no  translator  for  the  same.  Could  every 
thing  of  that  kind  have  been  omitted,  we  should 
have  been  still  less  dissatisfied;  hut  sometimes  the 
chain  of  the  narrative  would  not  admit  of  it,  and 
the  disagreeable  parts  were  to  be  got  over  with  as 
much  decency  as  possible. 

Ill  the  descriptions  of  battles,  camps,  and  sieges, 
it  is  more  than  probable  that  we  may  sometimes  be 
mistaken  in  the  military  terms.  We  have  endea¬ 
voured,  however,  to  be  as  accurate  in  this  respect  as 
possible,  and  to  acquaint  ourselves  with  this  kind 
ol  knowledge  as  well  as  our  situations  would  per¬ 
mit;  but  we  will  not  promise  the  reader  that  we 
have  always  succeeded.  Where  something  seemed 
to  have  fallen  out  of  the  text,  or  where  the  ellipsis 
was  too  violent  for  the  forms  of  our  language,  we 
have  not  scrupled  to  maintain  the  tenor  of  the  nar¬ 
rative,  or  the  chain  of  reason,  by  such  little  inser¬ 
tions  as  appeared  to  be  necessary  for  the  purpose. 
These  short  insertions  we  at  first  put  between 
hooks;  but  as  that  deformed  the  page,  without  an¬ 
swering  any  material  purpose,  we  soon  rejected  it. 

Such  are  the  liberties  we  have  taken  with  Plu¬ 
tarch  ;  and  the  learned,  we  flatter  ourselves,  will 
not  think  them  too  great.  Yet  there  is  one  more, 
which,  if  we  could  have  presumed  upon  it,  would 
have  made  his  book  infinitely  more  uniform  and 
agreeable.  We  often  wished  to  throw  out  of  the 
text  into  the  notes  those  tedious  and  digressive  com¬ 
ments  that  spoil  the  beauty  and  order  of  his  narra¬ 
tive,  mortify  the  expectation,  frequently  when  it  is 
most  essentially  interested ;  and  destroy  the  natural 
influence  of  his  story,  by  turning  the  attention  into 
a  different  channel.  What,  for  instance,  can  be 
more  irksome  and  impertinent,  than  a  long  disser 


PREFACE. 


XT 


tation  on  a  point  of  natural  philosophy  starting  up 
at  the  very  crisis  of  some  important  action?  Every 
reader  of  Plutarch  must  have  felt  the  pain  of  these 
unseasonable  digressions;  but  we  could  not,  upon 
our  own  pleasure  or  authority,  remove  them. 

In  the  Notes  we  have  prosecuted  these  several 
intentions.  We  have  endeavoured  to  bring  the 
English  reader  acquainted  with  the  Greek  and 
Roman  antiquities;  where  Plutarch  had  omitted 
any  thing  remarkable  in  tbe  Lives,  to  supply  it 
from  other  authors,  and  to  make  his  book  in  some 
measure  a  general  history  of  the  periods  under  his 
pen.  In  tfie  Notes,  too,  we  have  assigned  reasons 
for  it,  where  we  have  differed  from  the  former 
translators. 

This  part  of  our  work  is  neither  wholly  bor¬ 
rowed,  nor  altogether  original.  Where  Dacier  or 
other  annotators  offered  us  any  thing  to  the  pur¬ 
pose,  we  have  not  scrupled  to  make  use  of  it;  and, 
to  avoid  the  endless  trouble  of  citations,  we  make 
this  acknowledgment  once  for  all.  The  number 
of  original  Notes  the  learned  reader  will  find  to  be 
very  considerable :  but  there  are  not  so  many  notes 
of  any  kind  in  the  latter  part  of  the  work;  because 
the  manners  and  customs,  the  religious  ceremonies, 
laws,  state-offices,  and  forms  of  government,  among 
the  ancients,  being  explained  in  the  first  Lives, 
much  did  not  remain  for  the  business  of  infor¬ 
mation. 

Four  of  Plutarch’s  Parallels  are  supposed  to  be 
lost;  those  of  Themistocles  and  Camillus;  Pyrrhus 
and  Marius;  Phocion  and  Cato;  Alexander  and 
Caesar.  These  Dacier  supplies  by  others  of  his 
own  composition,  but  so  different  from  those  of 
Plutarch,  that  they  have  little  right  to  be  incorpo¬ 
rated  w  ith  his  works. 


XVI 


PREFACE. 


The  necessary  Chronological  Tables,  together 
with  Tables  of* Money,  Weights,  and  Measures, 
and  a  copious  Index,  have  been  provided  for  this 
translation:  of  which  we  may  truly  say,  that  it 
■wants  no  other  advantages  than  such  as  the  trans¬ 
lators  had  not  power  to  give. 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


AS,  hi  the  progress  of  life,  we  first  pass  through  scenes  oi 
innocence,  peace  and  fancy,  and  afterwards  encounter  the 
vices  and  disorders  of  society;  so  we  shall  here  amuse  our¬ 
selves  awhile  in  the  peaceful  solitude  of  the  philosopher,  be¬ 
fore  we  proceed  to  those  more  animated,  but  less  pleasing  ob¬ 
jects  he  describes. 

Nor  will  the  view  of  a  philosopher’s  life  be  less  instructive 
than  his  labours.  If  the  latter  teach  us  how  great  vices,  ac¬ 
companied  with  great  abilities,  may  tend  to  the  ruin  of  a 
state; — if  they  inform  us  how  ambition,  attended  with  magna¬ 
nimity,  how  avarice,  directed  by  political  sagacity,  how  envy 
and  revenge,  armed  with  personal  valour  and  popular  support, 
will  destroy  the  most  sacred  establishments,  and  break  through 
every  barrier  of  human  repose  and  safety;  the  former  will 
convince  us  that  equanimity  is  more  desirable  than  the  high¬ 
est  privileges  of  mind,  and  that  the  most  distinguished  situa¬ 
tions  in  life,  are  ess  to  be  envied  than  those  quiet  allotments, 
where  science  is  the  support  of  virtue. 

Pindar  and  Epaminondas  had,  long  before  Plutarch’s  time, 
ledeemed,  in  some  measure,  the  credit  of  Boeotia,  and  rescued 
the  inhabitants  of  that  country  from  the  proverbial  imputation 
of  stupidity.  When  Plutarch  appeared,  he  confirmed  the  re¬ 
putation  it  had  recovered.  He  showed  that  genius  is  not  the 
growth  of  any  particular  soil,  and  that  its  cultivation  requires 
no  peculiar  qualities  of  climate. 

Chaeronea,  a  town  in  Boeotia,  between  Phocis  and  Attica, 
had  the  honour  to  give  him  birth.  This  place  was  remark 
able  for  nothing  but  the  tameness  and  servility  of  its  inhabi 
tants,  whom  Antony’s  soldiers  made  beasts  of  burden,  and 
obliged  to  carry  their  corn  upon  their  shoulders  to  the  coast 
As  it  lay  between  two  seas,  and  was  partly  shut  up  by  moun- 
+he  air  of  course  was  heavy,  and  truly  Boeotian.  Bui 
l.  i.— c  2* 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


situations  as  little  favoured  by  nature  as  Chaeronea,  have  giv 
en  birth  to  the  greatest  men;  of  which  the  celebrated  Locke, 
and  many  others,  are  instances. 

Plutarch  himself  acknowledges  the  stupidity  of  the  Boeo 
tians  in  general;  but  he  imputes  it  rather  to  their  diet  than  to 
their  air;  for,  in  his  Treatise  on  Animal  Food,  he  intimates 
that  a  gross  indulgence  in  that  article,  which  was  usual  with 
his  countrymen,  contributes  greatly  to  obscure  the  intellectu¬ 
al  faculties. 

It  is  not  easy  to  ascertain  in  what  year  he  was  born.  Ruauld 
places  it  about  the  middle  of  the  reign  of  Claudius;  others, 
towards  the  end  of  it.  The  following  circumstance  is  the  only 
foundation  they  have  for  their  conjectures. 

Plutarch  says,  that  he  studied  philosophy  under  Ammonius, 
at  Delphi,  when  Nero  made  his  progress  into  Greece.  This, 
we  know,  was  in  the  twelfth  year  of  that  emperor’s  reign,  in 
the  consulship  of  Paulinus  Suetonius  and  Pontius  Telesinus, 
the  second  year  of  the  Olympiad  211,  and  the  sixty-sixth  ot 
the  Christian  era.  Dacier  observes,  that  Plutarch  must  have 
been  seventeen  or  eighteen  at  least,  when  lie  was  engaged  in 
the  abstruse  studies  of  philosophy;  and  he,  therefore,  fixes  his 
birth  about  five  or  six  years  before  the  death  of  Claudius. 
This,  however,  is  bare  supposition;  and  that,  in  our  opinion, 
not  of  the  most  probable  kind.  The  youth  of  Greece  studied 
under  the  philosophers  very  early;  for  their  works,  with  those 
of  the  poets  and  rhetoricians,  formed  their  chief  course  of  dis¬ 
cipline. 

But  to  determine  whether  he  was  born  under  the  reign  ot 
Claudius,  or  in  the  early  part  of  Nero’s  reign  (which  we  the 
rather  believe,  as  he  says  himself  that  he  was  very  young 
when  Nero  entered  Greece;)  to  make  it  clearly  understood", 
whether  he  studied  at  Delphi  at  ten,  or  at  eighteen  years  oi 
age,  is  of  much  less  consequence,  than  it  is  to  know  by  what 
means,  and  under  what  auspices,  he  acquired  that  humane  and 
rational  philosophy  which  is  distinguished  in  his  works. 

Ammonius  was  his  preceptor;  but  of  him  we  know  little 
more  than  what  his  scholar  has  accidentally  let  fall  concerning 
him.  He  mentions  a  singular  instance  of  his  manner  of  cor¬ 
recting  his  pupils: — “  Our  master,”  says  he,  “  having  one 
day  observed  that  we  had  indulged  ourselves  too  luxuriously 
at  dinner,  at  his  afternoon  lecture,  ordered  his  freed-man  to 
give  his  own  son  the  discipline  of  the  whip,  in  our  presence; 
signifying,  at  the  same  time,  that  he  suffered  this  punishment 
because  he  could  not  eat  his  victuals  without  sauce.  The  phi 
losopher  all  the  while  had  his  eye  upon  us,  and  we  knew  well 
for  whom  this  example  of  punishment  was  intended.”  This 
circumstance  shows,  at  least,  that  Ammonius  was  not  of  the 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


3 


school  of  Epicurus.  The  severity  of  his  discipline,  indeed; 
seems  rather  of  the  Stoic  cast;  but  it  is  most  probable,  that  he 
belonged  to  the  Academicians;  for  their  schools,  at  that  time, 
had  ihe  greatest  reputation  in  Greece. 

It  was  a  happy  circumstance  in  the  discipline  of  those 
schools,  that  tile  parent  only  had  the  power  of  corporal  pun 
ishment:  the  rod  and  the  ferula  were  snatched  from  the  hand 
of  the  petty  tyrant;  his  office  alone  was  to  inform  the  mind, 
he  had  no  authority  to  dastardise  the  spirit;  he  had  no  power 
to  extinguish  the  generous  flame  of  freedom,  or  to  break  down 
the  noble  independency  of  soul,  by  the  slavish,  debasing,  and 
degrading  application  of  the  rod.  This  mode  of  punishment 
in  our  public  schools  is  one  of  the  worst  remains  of  barbarism 
that  prevails  among  us.  Sensible  minds,  however  volatile  and 
inattentive  in  early  years,  may  be  drawn  to  their  duty  by 
many  means,  which  shame,  and  fears  of  a  more  liberal  natui  e 
than  those  of  corporal  punishment,  will  supply  vVhere  there 
is  but  little  sensibility,  the  effect  which  that  mode  of  punish¬ 
ment  produces  is  not  more  happy.  It  destroys  that  little; 
though  it  should  be  the  first  care  and  labour  of  the  preceptor 
to  increase  it.  To  beat  the  body,  is  to  debase  the  mind.  No¬ 
thing  so  soon,  or  so  totally  abolishes  the  sense  of  shame;  and 
yet  that  sense  is  at  once  the  best  preservative  of  virtue,  and 
the  greatest  incentive  to  every  species  of  excellence. 

Another  principal  advantage,  which  the  ancient  mode  of 
the  Greek  education  gave  its  pupils,  was  their  early  access  to 
every  branch  of  philosophical  learning.  They  did  not,  like 
us,  employ  their  youth  in  the  acquisition  of  words;  they  were 
engaged  in  pursuits  of  a  higher  nature;  in  acquiring  the  know¬ 
ledge  of  things.  They  did  not,  like  us,  spend  seven  or  ten 
years  of  scholastic  labour,  in  making  a  general  acquaintance 
with  two  dead  languages.  Those  years  were  employed  in  the 
study  of  nature,  and  in  gaining  the  elements  of  philosophical 
knowledge  from  her  original  economy  and  laws.  Hence  all 
that  Dacier  has  observed  concerning  the  probability  of  Plu¬ 
tarch’s  being  seventeen  or  eighteen  years  of  age  when  he  stu¬ 
died  under  Ammonius,  is  without  the  least  weight. 

The  way  to  mathematical  and  philosophical  knowledge  was, 
indeed,  much  more  easy  among  the  ancient  Greeks  than  it  can 
ever  be  with  us.  Those,  and  every  other  science,  are  bound 
up  in  terms,  which  we  can  never  understand  precisely,  till 
we  become  acquainted  with  the  languages  from  which  they  are 
derived.  Plutarch,  when  he  learnt  the  Roman  language,  which 
was  not  till  he  was  somewhat  advanced  in  life,  observed,  that 
he  got  the  knowledge  of  words  from  his  knowledge  of  things. 
But  we  lie  under  the  necessity  of  reversing  his  method;  and 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


before  we  can  arrive  at  the  knowledge  of  things,  we  must  first 
labour  to  obtain  the  knowledge  of  words. 

However,  though  the  Greeks  had  access  to  science  without 
the  acquisition  of  other  languages,  they  were,  nevertheless, 
sufficiently  attentive  to  the  cultivation  of  their  own.  Philolo¬ 
gy,  after  the  mathematics  and  philosophy,  was  one  of  their 
principal  studies;  and  they  applied  themselves  considerably 
to  critical  investigation. 

A  proof  of  this  we  find  in  that  Dissertation  which  Plutarch 
hath  given  us  on  the  word  el,  engraved  on  the  temple  of  Apollo 
at  Delphi.  In  this  tract  he  introduces  the  scholastic  disputes, 
wherein  he  makes  a  principal  figure.  After  giving  us  the  va¬ 
rious  significations  which  others  assigned  to  this  word,  he 
adds  his  own  idea  of  it;  and  that  is  of  some  consequence  to  us, 
because  it  shows  us  that  he  was  not  a  polytheist: — “  El,  says 
he,  Thou  art ;  as  if  it  were  el,  ev ,  Thou  art  one.  I  mean  not  in 
the  aggregate  sense,  as  we  say,  one  army,  or  one  body  of  men 
composed  of  many  individuals;  but  that  which  exists  distinct¬ 
ly  must  necessarily  be  one;  and  the  very  idea  of  Being  implies 
individuality.  One  is  that,  which  is  a  simple  being,  free  from 
mixture  and  composition.  To  be  one,  therefore,  in  this  sense, 
is  consistent  only  with  a  nature  entire  in  its  first  principle, 
and  incapable  of  alteration  or  decay.  ” 

So  far  we  are  perfectly  satisfied  with  Plutarch’s  creed,  but 
not  with  his  criticism.  To  suppose  that  the  word  el,  should 
signify  the  existence  of  one  God  only,  is  to  hazard  too  much 
upon  conjecture;  and  the  whole  tenor  of  the  heathen  theology 
makes  against  it. 

Nor  can  we  he  better  pleased  with  the  other  interpretations 
of  this  celebrated  word.  We  can  never  suppose,  that  it  bare¬ 
ly  signified  //;  intimating  thereby,  that  the  business  of  those 
who  visited  the  temple  was  inquiry,  and  they  that  came  to  ask 
the  Deity,  if  such  events  should  come  to  pass.  This  construc¬ 
tion  is  too  much  forced;  and  it  would  do  as  well,  or  even  better, 
were  the  el  interpreted,  if  you  make  large  presents  to  the  gods, 
if  y ou  pay  the  priest. 

Were  not  this  inscription  an  object  of  attention  among  the 
learned,  we  should  not,  at  this  distant  period  of  time,  have 
thought  it  worth  mentioning,  otherwise  than  as  it  gives  us  an 
idea  of  one  branch  of  Plutarch’s  education.  Put,  as  a  single 
word,  inscribed  on  the  temple  of  Apollo  at  Delphi,  can  not  but 
oe  matter  of  curiosity  with  those  who  carry  their  inquiries 
into  remote  antiquity,  we  shall  not  scruple  to  add  one  more 
to  the  other  conjectures  concerning  it. 

We  will  suppose,  then,  that  the  word  el  was  here  used  in 
the  Ionic  dialect,  for  elOe,  I  wish.  This  perfectly  expressed 
the  state  of  mind  of  all  that  entered  the  temple  on  the  business 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


s 


ol  consultation;  and  it  might  be  no  less  emphatical  in  the  Greek 
than  Virgil’s  Quanquam  0!  was  in  the  Latin.  If  we  carry  this 
conjecture  farther,  and  think  it  probable,  that  this  word  might, 
as  the  initial  word  of  a  celebrated  line  in  the  third  book  of 
the  Odyssey,  stand  there  to  signify  the  whole  line,  we  shall 
reach  a  degree  of  probability  almost  bordering  on  certainty. 
The  verse  we  allude  to  is  this: — 


Et.  yap  spot,  Tfooarjvbs  $sot  8vvoiy.Lv  rtupo.9tizv! 

**  0  that  the  gods  would  empower  me  to  obtain  my  wishes!” 
What  prayer  more  proper  on  entering  the  temples  of  the  gods, 
particularly  with  the  view  of  consulting  them  on  the  events 
of  life. 

If  it  should  be  thought  that  the  initial  word  is  insufficient 
to  represent  a  whole  verse,  we  have  to  answer,  that  it  was 
agreeable  to  the  custom  of  the  ancients.  They  not  only  con¬ 
veyed  the  sense  of  particular  verses  by  their  initial  words, 
but  frequently  of  large  passages  by  the  quotation  of  a  single 
line,  or  even  of  half  a  line;  some  instances  of  which  occur  in 
the  following  Lives.  The  reason  of  this  is  obvious:  The 
works  of  their  best  poets  were  almost  universally  committed 
to  memory;  and  the  smallest  quotation  was  sufficient  to  con 
vey  the  sense  of  a  whole  passage. 

These  observations  are  matters  of  mere  curiosity  indeed ; 
but  they  have  had  their  use;  for  they  have  naturally  pointed 
out  to  us  another  instance  of  the  excellence  of  that  education 
which  formed  our  young  philosopher. 

This  was  the  improvement  of  the  memory  by  means  of  ex 
ercise. 

Mr.  Locke  has  justly,  though  obviously  enough,  observed, 
that  nothing  so  much  strengthens  this  faculty  as  the  employ¬ 
ment  of  it. 

The  Greek  mode  of  education  must  have  had  a  wonderlul 
effect  in  this  case.  The  continual  exercise  of  the  memory  in 
laying  up  the  treasures  of  their  poets,  the  precepts  of  their 
philosophers,  and  the  problems  of  their  mathematicians,  must 
nave  given  it  that  mechanical  power  of  retention  which  no¬ 
thing  could  easily  escape.  Thus  Pliny*  tells  us  of  a  Greek 
called  Charmidas,  who  could  repeat  from  memory  the  con 
tents  or  the  largest  library. 

The  advantages  Plutarch  derived  from  this  exercise  appeal 
in  every  part  of  his  works.  As  the  writings  of  poets  lived  in 
his  memory,  they  were  ready  for  use  and  application  on  every 
apposite  occasion.  They  were  always  at  hand,  either  to  con 

•  Hist.  Nat.  lib.  vii.  cap.  24. 


G 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


firm  the  sentiments,  or  justily  the  principles  of  his  heroes,  to 
support  his  own,  or  to  illustrate  both. 

By  the  aid  of  a  cultivated  memory,  too,  he  was  enabled  to 
write  a  number  of  contemporary  Lives,  and  to  assign  to  each 
such  a  portion  of  business  in  the  general  transactions  of  the 
times,  as  might  be  sufficient  to  delineate  the  character,  with¬ 
out  repeated  details  of  the  same  actions  and  negociations. 
This  made  a  very  difficult  part  of  his  work;  and  he  acquitted 
himself  here  with  great  management  and  address.  Sometimes, 
indeed,  he  has  repeated  the  same  circumstances  in  contempo¬ 
rary  Lives,  but  it  was  hardly  avoidable.  The  great  wonder 
is,  that  he  has  done  it  so  seldom. 

But  though  an  improved  memory  might,  in  this  respect, 
be  of  service  to  him,  as  undoubtedly  it  was,  there  were  others 
in  which  it  was  rather  a  disadvantage.  By  trusting  too  much 
to  it,  he  has  fallen  into  inaccuracies  and  inconsistencies,  where 
he  was  professedly  drawing  from  preceding  writers;  and  we 
have  often  been  obliged  to  rectify  his  mistakes,  by  consulting 
those  authors,  because  he  would  not  be  at  the  pains  to  consult 
them  himself. 

If  Plutarch  might  properly  be  said  to  belong  to  anv  sect  ot 
philosophers,  his  education,  the  rationality  of  his  r^mciples, 
and  the  modesty  of  his  doctrines,  would  incline  js  to  place 
him  with  the  latter  Academy;  at  least,  when  he  left  his  mas¬ 
ter  Ammonius,  and  came  into  society,  it  is  more  than  proba¬ 
ble,  that  he  ranked  particularly  with  that  sect. 

His  writings,  however,  furnish  us  with  many  reasons  for 
thinking  that  he  afterwards  became  a  citizen  of  the  philosophi¬ 
cal  world.  He  appears  to  have  examined  every  sect  with  a 
calm  and  unprejudiced  attention;  to  have  selected  what  he 
found  of  use  for  the  purposes  of  virtue  and  happiness;  and  to 
have  left  the  rest  for  the  portion  of  those  whose  narrowness 
of  mind  could  think  either  science  or  felicity  confined  to  any 
denomination  of  men. 

From  the  Academicians  he  took  their  modesty  of  opinion, 
and  left  them  their  original  scepticism;  he  borrowed  their  ra¬ 
tional  theology,  and  gave  up  to  them,  in  a  great  measure,  their 
metaphysical  refinements,  together  with  their  vain  though 
seductive  enthusiasm. 

With  the  Peripatetics,  he  walked  in  search  oi  natural 
science,  and  of  logic;  but,  satisfied  with  whatever  practical 
knowledge  might  be  acquired,  he  left  them  to  dream  over  the 
hypothetical  part  of  the  former,  and  to  chase  the  shadows  of 
reason  through  the  mazes  of  the  latter. 

To  the  Stoics,  he  was  indebted  for  the  belief  of  a  particular 
Providence;  but  he  could  not  enter  into  their  idea  of  future 
rewards  and  punishments.  He  knew  not  how  to  reconcile 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


7 


the  present  agency  of  the  Supreme  Being  with  his  judicia. 
character  hereafter;  though  Theodoret  tells  us,  that  he  had 
heard  of  the  Christian  religion,  and  inserted  several  of  its 
mysteries  in  his  works.  *  From  the  Stoics,  too,  he  borrowed 
the  doctrine  of  fortitude;  but  he  rejected  the  unnatural  four?'’ 
dation  on  which  they  erected  that  virtue.  He  went  back  to 
Socrates  for  principles  whereon  to  rest  it. 

With  the  Epicureans  he  does  not  seem  to  have  had  much 
intercourse,  though  the  accommodating  philosophy  of  Aris¬ 
tippus  entered  frequently  into  his  politics,  and  sometimes  in¬ 
to  the  general  economy  of  his  life.  In  the  little  stales  of 
Greece  that  philosophy  had  not  much  to  do:  but  had  it  been 
adopted  in  the  more  violent  measures  of  the  Roman  adminis¬ 
tration,  our  celebrated  biographer  would  not  have  had  such 
scenes  of  blood  and  ruin  to  describe;  for  emulation,  prejudice, 
and  opposition,  upon  whatever  principles  they  might  plead 
their  apology,  first  struck  out  the  fire  that  laid  the  Common¬ 
wealth  in  ashes.  If  Plutarch  borrowed  any  thing  more  from 
Epicurus,  it  was  his  rational  idea  of  enjoyment.  That  such 
was  his  idea,  it  is  more  than  probable;  for  it  is  impossible  to 
believe  the  tales  that  the  heathen  bigots  have  told  of  him,  or 
to  suppose  that  the  cultivated  mind  of  a  philosopher  should 
pursue  its  happiness  out  of  the  temperate  order  of  nature.  His 
irreligious  opinions  he  left  to  him,  as  he  had  left  to  the  other 
sects  their  vanities  and  absurdities. 

But  when  we  bring  him  to  the  school  of  Pythagoras,  what 
idea  shall  we  entertain  of  him?  Shall  we  consider  him  any 
longer  as  an  Academician,  or  as  a  citizen  of  the  philosophical 
world?  Naturally  benevolent  and  humane,  he  finds  a  system 
of  divinity  and  philosophy  perfectly  adapted  to  his  natural 
sentiments.  The  whole  animal  creation  he  had  originally 
looked  upon  with  an  instinctive  tenderness;  but  when  the 
amiable  Pythagoras,  the  priest  of  Nature,  in  defence  of  the 
common  privileges  of  her  creatures,  had  called  religion  into 
their  cause; — when  he  sought  to  soften  the  cruelty  that  man 
had  exercised  against  them,  by  the  honest  art  of  insinuating 
the  doctrine  of  transmigration,  how  could  the  humane  and 
benevolent  Plutarch  refuse  to  serve  under  this  priest  of  Na¬ 
ture?  It  was  impossible.  He  adopted  the  doctrine  of  the 
Metempsychosis.  He  entered  into  the  merciful  scheme  of 
Pythagoras,  and,  like  him,  diverted  the  cruelty  of  the  human 
species,  by  appealing  to  the  selfish  qualities  of  their  nature,  by 
subduing  their  pride,  and  exciting  their  sympathy,  while  he 

*  Nothing1  of  Plutarch’s  is  now  extant  from  which  we  can  infer  that  he  was 
acquainted  with  the  Christian  religion. 


b 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


showed  them  that  their  future  existence  might  oe  the  con¬ 
dition  of  a  reptile. 

This  spirit  and  disposition  break  strongly  from  him  in  his 
observations  on  the  elder  Cato.  And  as  nothing  can  exhibit 
a  more  lively  picture  of  him  than  these  paintings  of  his  own, 
we  shall  not  scruple  to  introduce  them  here: — 64  For  my  part, 
I  can  not  but  charge  his  using  his  servants  like  so  many  beasts 
of  burden,  and  turning  them  off,  or  selling  them  when  they 
grew  old,  to  the  account  of  a  mean  and  ungenerous  spirit, 
which  thinks  that  the  sole  tie  between  man  and  man  is  inter¬ 
est  or  necessity.  But  goodness  moves  in  a  larger  sphere  than 

{’ustice.  The  obligations  of  law  and  equity  reach  only  to  man¬ 
kind,  but  kindness  and  beneficence  should  be  extended  to 
creatures  of  every  species;  and  these  still  flow  from  the  breast 
of  a  well  natured  man,  as  streams  that  issue  from  the  living 
fountain.  A  good  man  will  take  care  of  his  horses  and  dogs, 
not  only  while  they  are  young,  but  when  old  and  past  service. 
Thus  the  people  of  Athens,  when  they  had  finished  the  tem¬ 
ple  called  Hecatompedon,  set  at  liberty  the  beasts  of  burden 
that  had  been  chiefly  employed  in  the  work,  suffering  them 
to  pasture  at  large,  free  from  any  other  service.  It  is  said, 
that  one  of  these  afterwards  came  of  its  own  accord  to  work, 
and  putting  itself  at  the  head  of  the  labouring  cattle,  marched 
before  them  to  the  citadel.  This  pleased  the  people,  and  they 
made  a  decree,  that  it  should  be  kept  at  the  public  charge  so 
long  as  it  lived.  The  graves  of  Cimon’s  mares,  with  which 
he  thrice  conquered  at  the  Olympic  games,  are  still  to  be  seen 
near  his  own  tomb.  Many  have  shown  particular  marks  ot 
regard,  In  burying  the  dogs  which  they  had  cherished  and 
been  fond  of;  and  amongst  the  rest,  Xanthippus  of  old,  whose 
dog  swam  by  the  side  of  his  galley  to  Salamis,  when  the 
Athenians  were  forced  to  abandon  their  city,  and  was  after¬ 
wards  buried  by  him  upon  a  promontory,  which,  to  this  day, 
is  called  the  Dog’s  Grave.  We  certainly  ought  not  to  treat 
living  creatures  like  shoes  or  household  goods,  which,  when 
worn  out  with  use,  we  throw  away;  and  were  it  only  to  learn 
benevolence  to  human  kind,  we  should  be  merciful  to  other 
creatures.  F or  my  own  part,  I  would  not  sell  even  an  old  ox 
that  had  laboured  for  me;  much  less  would  I  remove,  for  the 
sake  of  a  little  money,  a  man  grown  old  in  my  service,  from 
his  usual  lqdgings  and  diet;  for  to  him,  poor  man,  it  would  be 
as  bad  as  banishment,  since  he  could  be  of  no  more  use  to  the 
buyer  than  he  was  to  the  seller.  But  Cato,  as  if  he  took  a 
pride  in  these  things,  tells  us  that,  when  consul,  he  left  hig 
war-horse  in  Spain,  to  save  the  public  the  charge  of  his  con 
veyance.  Whether  such  things  as  these  are  instances  of  great¬ 
ness  or  littleness  of  soul,  let  the  reader  judge  for  himself !” 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


9 


What  an  amiable  idea  of  our  benevolent  philosopher!  How 
worthy  the  instructions  of  the  priest  of  Nature!  How  hon¬ 
ourable  to  that  great  master  of  truth  and  universal  science, 
whose  sentiments  were  decisive  in  every  doubtful  matter,  and 
whose  maxims  were  received  with  silent  conviction!* 

Wherefore  should  we  wonder  to  find  Plutarch  more  particu¬ 
larly  attached  to  the  opinions  of  this  great  man?  Whether  we 
consider  the  immensity  of  his  erudition,  or  the  benevolence  of 
his  system,  the  motives  for  that  attachment  were  equally  pow¬ 
erful.  Pythagoras  had  collected  all  the  stores  of  human  learn¬ 
ing,  and  had  reduced  them  into  one  rational  and  useful  body 
of  science.  Like  our  glorious  Bacon,  he  led  philosophy  forth 
from  the  jargon  of  schools,  and  the  fopperies  of  sects.  He 
made  her  what  she  was  originally  designed  to  be,  the  handmaid 
of  Nature;  friendly  to  her  creatures,  and  faithful  to  her  laws. 
Whatever  knowledge  could  be  gained  by  human  industry,  by 
the  most  extensive  inquiry  and  observation,  he  had  every 
means  and  opportunity  to  obtain.  The  priests  of  Kgypt  un¬ 
folded  to  him  their  mysteries  and  their  learning:  they  led  him 
through  the  records  of  the  remotest  antiquity,  and  opened  all 
those  stores  of  science  that  had  been  amassing  through  a  mul¬ 
titude  of  ages.  The  Magi  of  Persia  co-operated  with  the 
priests  of  Egypt  in  the  instruction  of  this  wonderful  philoso¬ 
pher.  They  taught  him  those  higher  parts  of  science,  by 
-which  they  were  themselves  so  much  distinguished, — astrono¬ 
my  and  the  system  of  the  universe.  The  laws  of  moral  life, 
and  the  institutions  of  civil  societies,  with  their  several  excel¬ 
lencies  and  defects,  he  learned  from  the  various  states  and  es¬ 
tablishments  of  Greece.  Thus  accomplished,  when  he  came 
to  dispute  in  the  Olympic  contests,  he  was  considered  as  a 
prodigy  of  wisdom  and  learning;  but  when  the  choice  of  his 
title  was  left  to  him,  he  modestly  declined  the  appellation  of 
*  wise  man ,  and  was  contented  only  to  be  called  a  lover  of  wis¬ 
dom  A 

Shall  not  Plutarch  then  meet  with  all  imaginable  indulgence, 
if,  in  his  veneration  for  this  great  man,  he  not  only  adopted 
the  nobler  parts  of  his  philosophy,  but  (what  he  had  avoided 
with  regard  to  the  other  sects)  followed  him  too  in  his  errors? 
Such,  in  particular,  was  his  doctrine  of  dreams;  to  which  our 
biographer,  we  must  confess,  has  paid  too  much  altention. 
Yet  absolutely  to  condemn  him  for  this,  would  perhaps  be 
hazarding  as  much  as  totally  to  defend  him.  We  must  ac¬ 
knowledge,  with  the  elder  Pliny,  Si  exemplis  agatur ,  profecfo 
paria  fiant;\  or  in  the  language  of  honest  Sir  Roger  de  Cover 

*  Val.  Max.  lib.  viii.  cap.  15.  +  Hist.  Nat.  lib  r.  cap.  75. 

f  Val.  Max.  lib.  vi.  cap.  7. 

VOL.  I. - D 


3 


iO 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


ley,  “  Mach  may  be  said  on  both  sides.  ”*  However,  1 
Pliny,  whose  complaisance  for  the  credit  of  the  marvellous  in 
particular  was  very  great,  could  be  doubtful  about  this  matter, 
we  of  little  faith  may  be  allowed  to  be  more  so  Yet  Plutarch, 
in  his  Treatise  on  Oracles,  has  maintained  his  doctrine  by 
such  powerful  testimonies,  that  if  any  regard  is  to  be  paid  to 
his  veracity,  some  attention  should  be  given  to  his  opinion. 
We  shall  therefore  leave  the  point,  where  Mr.  Addison 
thought  proper  to  leave  a  more  imprubable  doctrine, — in  sus¬ 
pense. 

When  Zeno  consulted  the  oracle  in  what  manner  he  should 
live,  the  answer  was,  that  “  he  should  inquire  of  the  dead.” 
Assiduous  and  indefatigable  application  to  reading  made  a  con¬ 
siderable  part  of  the  Greek  education;  and  in  this  our  bio¬ 
grapher  seems  to  have  exerted  the  greatest  industry.  The 
number  of  books  he  has  quoted,  to  which  he  has  referred,  and 
from  which  he  has  written,  seems  almost  incredible,  when  it 
is  considered,  that  the  art  of  printing  was  not  known  in  his 
time,  and  that  the  purchase  of  manuscripts  was  difficult  and 
dear. 

His  family,  indeed,  was  not  without  wealth.  In  his  Sym- 
posiacs,  he  tells  us,  that  it  was  ancient  in  Chaeronea;  and  that 
his  ancestors  had  been  invested  with  the  most  considerable 
offices  in  the  magistracy.  He  mentions  in  particular  his  great¬ 
grandfather  Nicarchus,  whom  he  had  the  happiness  of  know¬ 
ing;  and  relates,  from  his  authority,  the  misfortunes  of  his  fel¬ 
low-citizens,  under  the  severe  discipline  of  Antony’s  soldiers. 

His  grandfather  Lamprias,  he  tells  us,  was  a  man  of  great 
eloquence,  and  of  a  brilliant  imagination.  He  was  distin¬ 
guished  by  his  merit  as  a  convivial  companion;  and  was  one 
oi  those  happy  mortals,  who,  when  they  sacrifice  to  Bacchus, 
are  favoured  by  Mercury.  His  good  humour  and  pleasantry 
increased  with  his  cups;  and  he  used  to  say,  that  wine  had  the 
same  effect  upon  him  that  fire  has  on  incense,  which  causes 
the  finest  and  richest  essences  to  evaporate. 

Plutarch  has  mentioned  his  father  likewise;  but  has  not 
given  us  his  name  in  any  of  those  writings  that  are  come  down 
to  us.  However,  he  has  borne  honou  ;able  testimony  to  his 
memory;  for  he  tells  us,  that  he  was  a  learned  and  a  virtuous 
man,  well  acquainted  with  the  philosophy  and  theology  of  his 
time,  and  conversant  with  the  works  of  the  poets.  Plutarch, 
in  his  Political  Precepts,  mentions  an  instance  of  his  father’s 
discretion,  which  does  him  great  honour: — 66  I  remember,” 
says  he,  “that  I  was  sent,  when  a  very  young  man,  along 
with  another  citizen  of  Chaeronea,  on  an  embassy  to  the  pro- 


Spectator,  No.  122. 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


n 


consul.  My  colleague  being,  by  some  accident,  obliged  to 
stop  in  the  way,  I  proceeded  without  him,  and  executed  our 
commission.  Upon  my  return  to  Chseronea,  when  I  was  to 
give  an  account  in  public  of  my  negociation,  my  father  took 
me  aside,  and  said,  6  My  son,  take  care  that  in  the  account 
you  are  about 'to  give,  you  do  not  mention  yourself  distinctly, 
but  jointly  with  your  colleague.  Say  not,  I  ivent,  I  spoke ,  Iexe 
cuted ,  but  we  went ,  we  spoke ,  we  executed .  Thus,  though  your 
colleague  was  incapable  of  attending  you,  he  will  share  in  the 
honour  of  your  success,  as  well  as  in  that  of  your  appoint¬ 
ment;  and  you  will  avoid  that  envy  which  necessarily  follows 
all  arrogated  merit/  ” 

Plutarch  had  two  brothers,  whose  names  were  Timon  and 
Lamprias.  These  were  his  associates  in  study  and  amuse¬ 
ment;  and  he  always  speaks  of  them  with  pleasure  and  affec¬ 
tion.  Of  Timon  in  particular  he  says, — 66  Though  Fortune 
has,  on  many  occasions,  been  favourable  to  me,  yet  I  have  no 
obligations  to  her  so  great  as  the  enjoyment  of  my  brothei 
Timon’s  invariable  friendship  and  kindness.”  Lamprias  toe 
he  mentions  as  inheriting  the  lively  disposition  and  good  hu 
mour  of  his  grandfather,  who  bore  the  same  name. 

Some  writers  have  asserted,  that  Plutarch  passed  into  Egypt. 
Others  allege,  that  there  is  no  authority  for  that  assertion;  and 
it  is  true,  that  we  have  no  written  record  concerning  it.  Never¬ 
theless,  we  incline  to  believe,  that  he  did  travel  into  that  coun¬ 
try;  and  we  found  our  opinion  on  the  following  reasons: — In 
the  first  place,  this  tour  was  a  part  of  liberal  education  among 
the  Greeks;  and  Plutarch,  being  descended  from  a  family  of 
distinction,  was  therefore  likely  to  enjoy  such  a  privilege.  In 
the  next  place,  his  treatise  of  Isis  and  Osiris,  shows  that  he  had 
a  more  than  common  knowledge  of  the  religious  mysteries  of 
the  Egyptians;  and  it  is  therefore  highly  probable,  that  he  ob¬ 
tained  this  knowledge  by  being  conversant  amongst  them. 
To  have  written  a  treatise  on  so  abstruse  a  subject,  without 
some  more  eminent  advantages  than  other  writers  might  af 
ford  him,  could  not  have  been  agreeable  to  the  genius,  or  con 
sistent  with  the  modesty  of  Plutarch. 

However,  supposing  it  doubtful  whether  he  passed  into 
Egypt,  there  is  no  doubt  at  all  that  he  travelled  into  Italy. 
Upon  what  occasion  he  visited  that  jountry,  it  is  not  quite  so 
certain;  but  he  probably  went  to  Rome,  in  a  public  cjmacity, 
on  the  business  of  the  Chseroneans;  for,  in  the  Life  of  iJemos- 
thenes,  he  tells  us,  that  he  had  no  leisure,  in  his  journey  to 
Italy,  to  learn  the  Latin  language,  on  the  account  of  public 
business. 

As  the  passage  here  referred  to  affords  us  further  matter  of 
speculation  for  the  Life  of  Plutarch,  we  shall  give  it  as  we 


12 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


find  it: — “  An  author  who  would  write  a  history  of  events 
which  happened  in  a  foreign  country,  and  can  not  be  come  at 
in  his  own,  as  he  has  his  materials  to  collect  from  a  variety  ol 
books,  dispersed  in  different  libraries,  his  first  care  should  be 
to  take  up  his  residence  in  some  populous  town  which  has  an 
ambition  for  literature.  There  he  will  meet  with  many  cu¬ 
rious  and  valuable  books;  and  the  particulars  that  are  wanting 
in  writers,  he  may,  upon  inquiry,  be  supplied  with,  by  those 
who  have  laid  them  up  in  the  faithful  repository  of  memory, 
This  will  prevent  his  work  from  being  defective  in  any  mate¬ 
rial  point.  As  to  myself,  I  live  in  a  little  town;  and  I  choose 
to  live  there,  lest  it  should  become  still  less.  When  I  was  in 
Rome,  and  other  parts  of  Italy,  I  had  not  leisure  to  study  the 
Latin  tongue,  on  account  of  the  public  commissions  with 
which  I  was  charged,  and  the  number  of  people  who  came  to 
be  instructed  by  me  in  philosophy.  It  was  not,  therefore,  till 
a  late  period  in  life  that  I  began  to  read  the  Roman  authors.” 

From  this  short  account,  we  may  collect,  with  tolerable 
certainty,  the  following  circumstances: — 

In  the  first  place,  Plutarch  tells  us,  that  while  he  was  resi 
dent  in  Rome,  public  business  and  lectures  in  philosophy 
left  him  no  time  for  learning  the  Latin  language;  and  yet,  a 
little  before,  he  had  observea,  that  those  who  write  a  history 
of  foreign  characters  and  events  ought  to  be  conversant  with 
the  historians  of  that  country  where  the  character  existed,  and 
the  scene  is  laid;  but  he  acknowledges, that  he  did  not  learn  the 
Latin  language  till  he  was  late  in  life,  because,  when  at  Rome 
he  had  not  time  for  that  purpose. 

We  may  therefore  conclude,  that  he  wrote  his  Morals  at 
Rome,  and  his  Lives  at  Chaeronea.  For  the  composition  of 
the  former,  the  knowledge  of  the  Roman  language  was  not 
necessary;  the  Greek  tongue  was  then  generally  understood 
in  Rome,  and  he  had  no  necessity  for  malting  use  of  any  other 
when  he  delivered  his  lectures  of  philosophy  to  the  people. 
Those  lectures,  it  is  more  than  probable,  made  up  that  col¬ 
lection  of  Morals,  which  is  come  down  to  us. 

Though  he  could  not  avail  himself  of  the  Roman  historians 
in  the  great  purpose  of  writing  his  Lives,  for  want  of  a  com* 
petent  acquaintance  with  the  language  in  which  they  wrote, 
yet,  by  conversing  with  the  principal  citizens  in  trie  Greek 
tongue,  he  must  have  collected  many  essential  circumstances, 
and  anecdotes  of  characters  and  events,  that  promoted  h  is  de¬ 
sign,  and  enriched  the  plan  of  his  work.  The  treasures  he 
acquired  of  this  kind  he  secured  by  means  of  a  common-place 
book,  which  he  constantly  carried  about  with  him;  and  as  it 
appears  that  he  was  in  Rome,  and  other  parts  of  Italy,  from 
the  beginning  of  Vespasian’s  reign  to  the  end  of  Trajan’s,  he 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


13 


must  have  had  sufficient  time  and  opportunity  to  procure  ma 
terials  of  every  kind;  for  this  was  a  period  of  almost  forty 
years. 

We  shall  the  more  readily  enter  into  the  belief  that  Plutarch 
collected  his  materials  chiefly  from  conversation,  when  we 
consider  in  what  manner,  and  on  what  subjects,  the  ancients 
used  to  converse.  The  discourse  of  people  of  education  and 
distinction  in  those  days  was  somewhat  different  from  that  of 
ours.  It  was  not  on  the  powers  or  pedigree  of  a  horse;  it  was 
not  on  a  match  of  travelling  between  geese  and  turkeys;  it  was 
not  on  a  race  of  maggots,  started  against  each  other  on  the  table, 
when  they  first  came  to  day-light  from  the  shell  of  a  filbert  > 
it  was  not  by  what  part  you  may  suspend  a  spaniel  the  longest 
without  making  him  whine;  it  was  not  on  the  exquisite  finesse, 
and  the  highest  manoeuvres  of  play;  the  old  Romans  had  no 
ambition  for  attainments  of  this  nature.  They  had  no  such 
masters  in  science  as  Heber  and  Hoyle.  The  taste  of  their 
day  did  not  run  so  high.  The  powers  of  poetry  and  philoso¬ 
phy,  the  economy  of  human  life  and  manners,  the  cultivation 
of  the  intellectual  faculties,  the  enlargement  of  the  mind,  his¬ 
torical  and  political  discussions  on  the  events  of  their  country; 
these,  and  such  subjects  as  these,  made  the  principal  part  of 
their  conversation.  Of  this  Plutarch  has  given  us  at  once 
a  proof  and  a  specimen,  in  what  he  calls  his  Symposiacs,  or, 
as  our  Selden  calls  it,  his  Table-Talk.  From  such  conversa¬ 
tions  as  these,  then,  we  can  not  wonder  that  he  was  able  to 
collect  such  treasures  as  were  necessary  for  the  maintenance 
of  his  biographical  undertaking. 

In  the  sequel  of  the  last  quoted  passage,  we  find  another 
argument,  which  confirms  us  in  the  opinion  that  Plutarch’s 
knowledge  of  the  Roman  history  was  chiefly  of  colloquial 
acquisition: — “  My  method  of  learning  the  Roman  language,” 
says  he,  u  may  seem  strange,  and  yet  it  is  very  true,  I  did 
not  so  much  gain  the  knowledge  of  things  by  the  words,  as 
words  by  the  Knowledge  I  had  of  things.”  This  plainly  im¬ 
plies,  that  he  was  previously  acquainted  with  the  events  de¬ 
scribed  in  the  language  he  was  learning. 

It  must  be  owned  that  the  Roman  history  had  been  already 
written  in  Greek  by  Polybius;  and  that,  indeed,  somewhat 
invalidates  the  last-mentioned  argument.  Nevertheless,  it  has 
st  ill  sufficient  evidence  for  its  support.  There  are  a  thousand 
circumstances  in  Plutarch’s  Lives  which  could  not  be  collect¬ 
ed  from  Polybius;  and  it  is  clear  to  us,  that  he  did  not  make 
much  use  of  his  Latin  reading. 

He  acknowledges  that  he  did  not  apply  himself  to  the  ac¬ 
quisition  of  that  language  till  he  was  far  advanced  in  life;  pos« 
sibly  it  might  be  about  the  latter  part  of  the  reign  cf  Trajan,, 

3* 


14 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


whose  kind  disposition  towards  his  country  rendered  the 
weight  of  public  and  political  business  easy  to  him. 

But  whenever  he  might  begin  to  learn  the  language  of 
Rome,  it  is  certain  that  he  made  no  great  progress  in  it.  This 
appears  as  well  from  the  little  comments  he  has  occasionally 

fiven  us  on  certain  Latin  words,  as  from  some  passages  in  his 
iives,  where  he  has  professedly  followed  the  Latin  historians, 
and  yet  followed  them  in  an  uncertain  and  erroneous  manner. 

That  he  wrote  the  Lives  of  Demosthenes  and  Cicero  at  Chse~ 
ronea,  it  is  clear  from  his  own  account;  and  it  is  more  than 
probable,  too,  that  the  rest  of  his  Lives  were  written  in  that 
retirement;  for  if,  while  he  was  at  Rome,  he  could  scarcely 
find  time  to  learn  the  language,  it  is  hardly  to  be  supposed 
that  he  could  do  more  than  lay  up  materials  for  composition. 

A  circumstance  arises  here,  which  confirms  to  us  an  opin¬ 
ion  we  have  long  entertained,  that  the  Book  of  Apophthegms; 
which  is  said  to  have  been  written  by  Plutarch,  is  really  not 
his  work.  This  book  is  dedicated  to  Trajan;  and  the  dedica¬ 
tor  assuming  the  name  and  character  of  Plutarch,  says,  he  had, 
before  this,  written  the  Lives  of  illustrious  Men;  but  Plutarch 
wrote  those  Lives  at  Chgeronea,  and  he  did  not  retire  to  Chae- 
ronea  till  after  the  death  of  Trajan. 

There  are  other  proofs,  if  others  were  necessary,  to  show 
that  this  work  was  supposititious;  for,  in  this  dedication  to  Tra¬ 
jan,  not  the  least  mention  is  made  of  Plutarch’s  having  been  his 
preceptor,  of  his  being  raised  by  him  to  the  consular  dignity, 
or  of  his  being  appointed  governor  of  Illyria.  Dacier,  observ¬ 
ing  this,  has  drawn  a  wrong  conclusion  from  it,  and,  contrary 
to  the  assertion  of  Suidas,  will  have  it,  that  Plutarch  was  nei¬ 
ther  preceptor  to  Trajan,  nor  honoured  with  any  appointments 
under  him.  Had  it  occurred  to  him  that  the  Book  of  Apoph¬ 
thegms  could  not  be  Plutarch’s  book,  but  that  it  'was  merely 
an  extract  made  from  his  real  works  by  some  industrious 
grammarian,  he  would  not  have  been  under  the  necessity  of 
hazarding  so  much  against  the  received  opinion  of  his  con¬ 
nexions  with  Trajan;  nor  would  he  have  found  it  necessary 
to  allow  so  little  credit  to  his  letter  addressed  to  that  emperor 
which  we  have  upon  record.  The  letter  is  as  follows: — 

Plutarch  to  Trajan. 

6i  I  am  sensible, that  you  sought  not  the  empire.  Youi  na¬ 
tural  modesty  would  not  suffer  you  to  apply  for  a  distinction 
to  which  you  were  always  entitled  by  the  excellency  of  your 
manners.  That  modesty,  however,  makes  you  still  more  wor¬ 
thy  of  those  honours  you  had  no  ambition  to  solicit.  Should 
your  future  government  prove  in  any  degree  answerable  to 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


k5 

pour  former  merit,  I  shall  have  reason  to  congratulate  both  youi 
virtue  and  my  own  good  fortune  on  this  great  event.  But,  if 
otherwise,  you  have  exposed  yourself  to  danger,  and  me  to 
obloquy;  for  Rome  will  never  endure  an  emperor  unworthy 
of  her;  and  the  faults  of  the  scholar  will  be  imputed  to  the 
master.  Seneca  is  reproached,  and  his  fame  still  suffers  for  the 
vices  of  Nero;  the  reputation  of  Quintilian  is  hurt  by  the  ill 
conduct  of  his  scholars;  and  even  Socrates  is  accused  of  negli¬ 
gence  in  the  education  of  Alcibiades.  Of  you,  however,  1 
have  better  hopes,  and  flatter  myself  that  your  administration 
will  do  honour  to  your  virtues.  Only  continue  to  be  what 
you  are.  Let  your  government  commence  in  your  breast, 
and  lay  the  foundation  of  it  in  the  command  of  your  passions. 
If  you  make  virtue  the  rule  of  your  conduct  and  the  end  of 
your  actions,  every  thing  will  proceed  in  harmony  and  order. 

I  have  explained  to  you  the  spirit  of  those  laws  and  constitu¬ 
tions  that  were  established  by  your  predecessors,  and  you 
have  nothing  to  do  but  to  carry  them  into  execution.  If  this 
should  be  the  case,  I  shall  have  the  glory  of  having  formed  an 
emperor  to  virtue;  but,  if  otherwise;  let  this  letter  remain  a 
testimony  with  succeeding  ages,  that  you  did  not  ruin  the  Ro¬ 
man  empire  under  pretence  of  the  counsels  or  the  authority 
of  Plutarch.” 

Why  Dacier  should  think  that  this  letter  is  neither  worthy 
of  the  pen,  nor  written  in  the  manner  of  Plutarch,  it  is  no: 
easy  to  conceive;  for  it  has  all  the  spirit,  the  manly  freedom, 
and  the  sentimental  turn  of  that  philosopher. 

We  shall  find  it  no  very  difficult  matter  to  account  for  his 
connection  with  Trajan,  if  we  attend  to  the  manner  in  which 
he  lived,  and  to  the  reception  he  met  with  in  Rome.  During 
his  residence  in  that  city,  his  house  was  the  resort  of  the  prin¬ 
cipal  citizens.  All  that  were  distinguished  by  their  rank, 
taste,  learning,  or  politeness,  sought  his  conversation  and  at¬ 
tended  his  lectures.  The  study  of  the  Greek  language,  and 
philosophy,  was  at  that  time  the  greatest  pursuits  of  the  Roman 
nobility,  and  even  the  emperors  honoured  the  most  celebrated 
professors  with  their  presence  and  support.  Plutarch,  in  his 
treatise  on  Curiosity,  has  introduced  a  circumstance,  which 
places  the  attention  that  was  paid  to  his  lectures  in  a  very 
strong  light: — -“It  once  happened,”  says  he,  “that  when  I 
was  speaking  in  public  at  Rome,  Arulenus  Rusticus,  the  same 
whom  Domitian,  through  envy  of  his  growing  reputation,  af¬ 
terwards  put  to  death,  was  one  of  my  hearers.  When  I  was 
in  the  middle  of  my  discourse,  a  soldier  came  in,  and  brought 
him  a  letter  from  the  emperor.  Upon  this  there  was  a  gen¬ 
eral  silence  through  the  audience,  and  I  stopped  to  give  him 


16 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


time  to  peruse  this  letter;  but  he  would  not  suffer  it;  nor  did 
he  open  the  letter  till  1  had  finished  my  lecture,  and  the  au¬ 
dience  was  dispersed.” 

To  understand  the  importance  of  this  compliment,  it  will 
be  necessary  to  consider  the  quality  and  character  of  the  per¬ 
son  who  paid  it.  Arulenus  was  one  of  the  greatest  men  in 
Rome,  distinguished  as  well  by  the  lustre  of  his  family,  as  by 
an  honourable  ambition  and  thirst  of  glory.  He  was  tribune 
of  the  people  when  Nero  caused  Psetus  and  Soranus  to  be 
capitally  condemned  by  a  decree  of  the  senate.  When  So¬ 
ranus  w'as  deliberating  with  his  friends  whether  he  should  at¬ 
tempt  or  give  up  his  defence,  Arulenus  had  the  spirit  to  pro¬ 
pose  an  opposition  to  the  decree  of  the  senate,  in  his  capacity 
of  tribune;  and  he  would  have  carried  it  into  execution,  had 
he  not  been  overruled  by  Paetus,  who  remonstrated,  that  by 
such  a  measure  he  would  destroy  himself,  without  the  satis¬ 
faction  of  serving  his  friend.  He  was  afterwards  praetor  un¬ 
der  Vitellius,  whose  interests  he  followed  with  the  greatest 
fidelity*  But  his  spirit  and  magnanimity  do  him  the  greatest 
honour,  in  that  eulogy  which  he  wrote  on  Paetus  and  Helvi 
dius  Priscus.  His  whole  conduct  was  regulated  by  the  pre 
cepts  of  philosophy;  and  the  respect  he  showed  to  Plutarch  on 
this  occasion  was  a  proof  of  his  attachment  to  it.  Such  was 
the  man  who  postponed  the  letter  of  a  prince  to  the  lecture  of 
a  philosopher. 

But  Plutarch  was  not  only  treated  with  general  marks  of 
distinction  by  the  superior  people  in  Rome;  he  had  particular 
and  very  respectable  friendships.  Sossius  Senecio,  who  was 
four  times  consul,  once  under  Nerva,  and  thrice  under  Trajan, 
was  his  most  intimate  friend.  To  him  he  addresses  his  Lives, 
except  that  of  Aratus,  which  is  inscribed  to  Polycrates  of 
Sicyon,  the  grandson  of  Aratus.  With  Senecio  he  not  only 
lived  in  the  strictest  friendship  whilst  he  was  in  Rome,  but 
corresponded  with  him  after  he  retired  to  Greece.  And  is  it 
not  easy  to  believe,  that  through  the  interest  of  this  zealous 
and  powerful  friend,  Plutarch  might  not  only  be  appointed 
tutor  to  Trajan,  but  be  advanced  likewise  to  the  consular  dig¬ 
nity?  When  we  consider  Plutarch’s  eminence  in  Rome  as  a 
teacher  of  philosophy,  nothing  can  be  more  probable  than  the 
former;  when  we  remember  the  consular  interest  of  Senecio 
under  Trajan,  and  his  distinguished  regard  for  Plutarch,  no¬ 
thing  can  be  more  likely  than  the  latter. 

The  honour  of  being  preceptor  to  such  a  virtuous  prince  as 
Trajan,  is  so  important  a  point  in  the  Life  of  Plutarch,  that  it 
must  not  hastily  be  given  up.  Suidas  has  asserted  it.  The 
letter  above  quoted,  if  it  be,  as  we  have  no  doubt  of  its  being 
the  genuine  composition  of  Plutarch,  has  confirmed  it.  Pe 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


17 


trarch  has  maintained  it.  Dacier  only  has  doubted,  or  rather 
denied  it.  But  upon  what  evidence  has  he  grounded  his 
opinion?  Plutarch,  he  says,  was  but  three  or  four  years  older 
than  Trajan,  and  therefore  was  unfit  to  be  his  preceptor  in 
philosophy.  Now,  let  us  inquire  into  the  force  of  this  argu¬ 
ment.  Trajan  spent  the  early  part  of  his  life  in  arms;  Plu¬ 
tarch  in  the  study  of  the  sciences.  When  that  prince  applied 
himself  to  literary  pursuits,  he  was  somewhat  advanced  in  life, 
Plutarch  must  have  been  more  so.  And  why  a  man  of  sci¬ 
ence  should  be  an  unfit  preceptor  in  philosophy  to  a  military 
man,  though  no  more  than  four  years  older,  the  reason,  we 
apprehend,  will  be  somewhat  difficult  to  discover. 

Dacier,  moreover,  is  reduced  to  a  petitio  principii ,  when  he 
says  that  Plutarch  was  only  four  years  older  than  Trajan;  for 
we  have  seen  that  it  is  impossible  to  ascertain  the  time  of  Plu¬ 
tarch’s  birth;  and  the  date  which  Dacier  assigns  it  is  purely 
conjectural.  We  will,  therefore,  conclude  with  those  learn¬ 
ed  men  who  have  formerly  allowed  Plutarch  the  honour  of 
being  preceptor  to  Trajan,  that  he  certainly  was  so.  There 
is  little  doubt  that  they  grounded  their  assertions  upon  proper 
authority;  and,  indeed,  the  internal  evidence  arising  from  the 
nature  and  effects  of  that  education,  which  did  equal  honour 
to  the  scholar  .and  to  the  master,  comes  in  aid  of  the  argu¬ 
ment. 

Some  chronologers  have  taken  upon  them  to  ascertain  the 
time  when  Plutarch’s  reputation  was  established  in  Rome. 
Peter  of  Alexandria  fixes  it  in  the  thirteenth  year  of  the  reign 
of  Nero,  in  the  consulate  of  Capito  and  Rufus: — “Lucian,” 
says  he,  “was  at  this  time  in  great  reputation  amongst  the 
Romans;  and  Musonius  and  Plutarch  were  well  known.” 
Eusebius  brings  it  one  year  lower,  and  tells  us,  that,  in  the 
fourteenth  year  of  Nero’s  reign,  Musonius  and  Plutarch  were 
in  great  reputation.  Both  tnese  writers  are  palpably  mista¬ 
ken.  We  have  seen,  that,  in  the  twelfth  year  of  Nero,  Plu 
tarch  was  yet  at  school  under  Ammonius;  and  it  is  not  verj^ 
probable  that  a  school-boy  should  be  celebrated  as  a  philoso¬ 
pher  in  Rome,  within  a  year  or  two  after.  Indeed  Eusebius 
contradicts  himself;  for,  on  another  occasion,  he  places  him 
in  the  reign  of  Adrian,  the  third  year  of  the  Olympiad  two 
hundred  and  twenty-four,  of  the  Christian  era  one  hundred 
and  twenty: — “In  this  year,”  says  he,  “the  philosophers, 
Plutarch  of  Chaeronea,  Sextus,  and  Agathobulus,  flourished.” 
Thus  he  carries  him  as  much  too  low,  as  he  had  before  placed 
b.im  too  high.  It  is  certain,  that  he  first  grew  into  reputation 
under  the  reign  of  Vespasian,  and  that  his  philosophical  fame 
was  established  in  the  time  of  Trajan. 

It  seems  that  the  Greek  and  Latin  writers  of  those  times 
Vol.  i. - E 


18 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH 


were  either  little  acquainted  with  each  other’s  works,  or  that 
there  were  some  literary  jealousies  and  animosities  between 
them.  When  Plutarch  flourished,  there  were  several  con¬ 
temporary  writers  of  distinguished  abilities;  Perseus,  Lucan, 
Silius  Italicus,  Valerius  Flaccus,  the  younger  Pliny,  Solinus, 
Martial,  Quintilian,  and  many  more.  Yet  none  of  those  have 
made  the  least  mention  of  him.  Was  this  envy,  or  was  it  Ro¬ 
man  pride?  Possibly,  they  could  not  bear  that  a  Greek  sophist, 
a  native  of  such  a  contemptible  town  as  Chaeronea,  should  en¬ 
joy  the  palm  of  literary  praise  in  Rome.  It  must  be  observed, 
at  the  same  time,  that  the  principal  Roman  writers*  had  con¬ 
ceived  a  jealousy  of  the  Greek  philosophers,  which  was  very 
prevailing  in  that  age.  Of  this  we  find  a  strong  testimony  in 
the  elder  Pliny,  where,  speaking  of  Cato  the  Censor’s  disap¬ 
proving  and  dismissing  the  Grecian  orators,  and  of  the  younger 
Cato’s  bringing  in  triumph  a  sophist  from  Greece,  he  ex¬ 
claims,  in  terms  that  signify  contempt,  Quanta  morum  commu - 
tatio! 

However,  to  be  undistinguished  by  the  encomiums  of  con¬ 
temporary  writers,  was  by  no  means  a  thing  peculiar  to  Plu¬ 
tarch.  It  has  been,  and  still  is  the  fate  of  superior  genius,  to 
be  beheld  either  with  silent  or  abusive  envy.  It  makes  its 
way  like  the  sun,  which  we  look  upon  with  pain,  unless  some¬ 
thing  passes  over  him  that  obscures  his  glory.  We  then  view 
with  eagerness  the  shadow,  the  cloud,  or  the  spot,  and  are 
pleased  with  what  eclipses  the  brightness  we  otherwise  can 
not  bear. 

Yet,  if  Plutarch,  like  other  great  men,  found— “  Envy 
n^ver  conquered  but  by  death,”  his  manes  have  been  appeas¬ 
ed  by  the  amplest  atonements.  Amongst  the  many  that  have 
done  honour  to  his  memory,  the  following  eulogiums  deserve 
to  be  recorded. 

Yulus  Gellius  compliments  him  with  the  highest  distinction 
ir?  science.* 

Taurus,  quoted  by  Gellius,  calls  him  a  man  of  the  most  con¬ 
summate  learning  and  wisdom,  t 

Eusebius  places  him  at  the  head  of  the  Greek  philosophers.  % 

Sardianus,  in  his  preface  to  the  Lives  of  the  Philosophers, 
calls  him  the  most  divine  Plutarch,  the  beauty  and  harmony 
of  philosophy. 

retrach,  in  his  moral  writings,  frequently  distinguishes  him 
!5>r  the  title  of  the  great  Plutarch. 

Honour  has  been  done  to  him  likewise  by  Origen,  Hi  me* 
nus  the  sophist,  Cyrillus,  Theodoret,  Suidas,  Photius,  Xi 

*  A  Gellius,  lib.  iv.  <  ap.  7.  i  Eu.c  lb.  Praep.  lib.  iii.  init. 

j-  Gell.  lib.  i.  cap.  26. 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


19 


plulinus,  Joannes  Sarisberiensis,  Victorius,  Lipsins,  and  Aga- 
tliias,  in  the  epigram  which  is  thus  translated  by  Dryden:— 

Chaeronean  Plutarch,  to  thy  deathless  praise 
Docs  martial  Rome  this  grateful  statue  /aise; 

Because  both  Greece  and  she  thy  fame  have  shar’d. 

Their  heroes  written  and  their  lives  compar’d. 

But  thou  thyself  could’ st  never  write  thy  own; 

Their  lives  have  parallels,  but  thine  has  none. 


But  this  is  perfectly  extravagant.  We  are  much  better  pleas¬ 
ed  with  the  Greek  verses  of  the  honest  metropolitan  under 
Constantine  Monomachus.  They  deserve  to  he  translated: — 

Lord  of  that  light,  that  living  power,  to  save. 

Which  her  lost  sons  no  Heathen  Science  gave: 

If  aught  of  these  thy  mercy  means  to  spare, 

Yield  Plato,  Lord, — yield  Plutarch  to  my  prayer. 

Led  by  no  grace,  no  new  conversion  wrought, 

They  felt  thy  own  divinity  of  thought. 

That  grace  exerted,  spare  the  partial  rod; 

The  last,  best  witness,  that  thou  art  their  God! 

Theodore  Gaza,  who  was  a  man  of  considerable  learning, 
and  a  great  reviver  of  letters,  had  a  particular  attachment  to 
our  biographer.  When  he  was  asked,  in  case  of  a  general  de¬ 
struction  of  books,  what  author  he  would  wish  to  save  from 
the  ruin,  he  answered, — Plutarch.  He  considered  his  histo¬ 
rical  and  philosophical  writings  as  the  most  beneficial  to  socie¬ 
ty,  and  of  course  the  best  substitute  for  all  other  books. 

Were  it  necessary  to  produce  further  suffrages  for  the  merit 
of  Plutarch,  it  would  be  sufficient  to  say,  that  he  has  been 

E raised  by  Montaigne,  St.  Evremond,  and  Montesquieu,  the 
cst  critics  and  the  ablest  writers  of  their  time. 

After  receiving  the  most  distinguished  honours  that  a  phi¬ 
losopher  could  enjoy;  after  the  god-like  office  of  teaching  wis¬ 
dom  and  goodness  to  the  metropolis  of  the  world;  after  having 
formed  an  emperor  to  virtue;  and  after  beholding  the  effects 
of  his  precepts  in  the  happiness  of  human  kind,  Plutarch  re¬ 
tired  to  his  native  country.  The  death  of  this  illustrious  prince 
and  pupil,  to  a  man  of  his  sensibility,  must  have  rendered 
Rome  even  painful;  for  whatever  influence  philosophy  may 
have  on  the  Cultivation  of  the  mind,  we  find  that  it  has  very 
little  power  over  the  interests  of  the  heart. 

It  must  have  been  in  the  decline  of  life  that  Plutarch  retired 
to  Chseronea.  But  though  he  withdrew  from  the  busier  scenes 
of  the  world, he  fled  not  to  an  unprofitable  or  inactive  solitude. 
In  that  retirement  he  formed  the  great  work  for  which  he  had 
so  long  been  preparing  materials, — his  Lives  of  illustrious 


20 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


Men;  a  work  which,  as  Scaliger  says,  non  solum  fait  in  manU 
bus  hominum ,  at  etiam  humani  generis  memoriam  occupavit . 

To  recommend  by  encomiums  what  has  been  received  with 
universal  approbation,  would  be  superfluous.  But  to  observe 
where  the  biographer  has  excelled,  and  in  what  he  has  failed  , 
to  make  a  due  estimate  as  well  of  the  defects  as  of  the  merits 
©f  his  work,  may  have  its  use. 

Lipsius  has  observed,  that  he  does  not  write  history,  but 
scraps  of  history,  non  liistoriam ,  sed  particulas  historic.  This 
is  said  of  his  Lives;  and  in  one  sense  it  is  true.  No  single 
life  that  he  has  written  will  afford  a  sufficient  history  of  its 
proper  period;  neither  was  it  possible  that  it  should  do  so.  As 
nis  plan  comprised  a  number  of  contemporary  Lives,  most  of 
which  were  in  public  characters,  the  business  of  their  period 
was  to  be  divided  amongst  them.  The  general  history  of  the 
time  was  to  be  thrown  into  separate  portions;  and  those  por¬ 
tions  were  to  be  allotted  to  such  characters  as  had  the  princi¬ 
pal  interest  in  the  several  events. 

This  was  in  some  measure  done  by  Plutarch;  but  it  was  not 
done  with  great  art  or  accuracy.  At  the  same  time,  as  we  have 
already  observed,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered,  if  there  were  some 
repetitions,  when  the  part  which  the  several  characters  bore 
in  the  principal  events,  was  necessary  to  be  pointed  out. 

Yet  these  scraps  of  history,  thus  divided  and  dispersed, 
when  seen  in  a  collective  form,  make  no  very  imperfect  nar¬ 
rative  of  the  times  within  their  view.  The  biographer’s  at 
tention  to  the  minuter  circumstances  of  character,  his  disqui 
sitions  of  principles  and  manners,  and  his  political  and  philo¬ 
sophical  discussions,  lead  us  in  an  easy  and  intelligent  man 
ner  to  the  events  he  describes. 

It  is  not  to  be  denied,  that  his  narratives  are  sometimes  dis¬ 
orderly,  and  too  often  encumbered  with  impertinent  digres¬ 
sions.  By  pursuing  with  too  much  indulgence  the  train  of 
ideas,  he  has  frequently  destroyed  the  order  of  facts,  brought 
together  events  that  lay  at  a  distance  from  each  other,  called 
forward  those  circumstances  to  which  he  should  have  made 
a  regular  progress,  and  made  no  other  apology  for  these  idle 
excursions,  but  by  telling  us  that  he  is  out  of  the  order  oi 
time. 

Notes,  in  the  time  of  Plutarch,  were  not  in  use.  Had  he 
known  the  convenience  of  marginal  writing,  he  would  certain¬ 
ty  have  thrown  the  greatest  part  of  his  digressions  into  that 
form.  They  are  undoubtedly  tedious  and  disgustful;  and  all 
we  can  do  to  reconcile  ourselves  to  them,  is  to  remember, 
that,  in  the  first  place,  marginal  writing  was  a  thing  unknown, 
and  that  the  benevolent  desire  of  conveying  instruction,  was 
the  greatest  motive  with  the  biographer  for  introducing  them 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH.  21 

This  appears  at  least  from  the  nature  of  them;  for  they  are 
chiefly  disquisitions  in  natural  history  and  philosophy. 

In  painting  the  manners  of  men,  Plutarch  is  truly  excel¬ 
lent.  Nothing  can  be  more  clear  than  his  moral  distinctions; 
nothing  finer  than  his  delineations  of  the  mind. 

The  spirit  of  philosophical  observation  and  inquiry,  which, 
when  properly  directed,  is  the  great  ornament  and  excellence 
of  historical  composition,  Plutarch  possessed  in  an  eminent 
degree.  His  biographical  writings  teach  philosophy  at  once 
by  precept  and  by  example.  His  morals  and  his  characters 
mutually  explain  and  give  force  to  each  other. 

His  sentiments  of  the  duty  of  a  biographer  were  peculiarly 
just  and  delicate.  This  will  appear  from  his  strictures  on 
those  historians  who  wrote  of  Philistus: — 66  It  is  plain, 55  says 
he,  “  that  Timseus  takes  every  occasion,  from  Philistus5 
known  adherence  to  arbitrary  power,  to  load  him  with  the 
heaviest  reproaches.  Those  whom  he  injured,  are  in  some 
degree  excusable,  if,  in  their  resentment,  they  treated  him 
with  indignities  after  death.  But  wherefore  should  his  bio¬ 
graphers,  whom  he  never  injured,  and  who  have  had  the 
benefit  of  his  works;  wherefore  should  they  exhibit  him  with 
all  the  exaggerations  of  scurrility,  in  those  scenes  of  distress 
to  which  fortune  sometimes  reduces  the  best  of  men?  On  the 
other  hand,  Ephorus  is  no  less  extravagant  in  his  encomiums 
on  Philistus.  He  knows  well  how  to  throw  into  shades  the 
foibles  of  the  human  character,  and  to  give  an  air  of  plausi¬ 
bility  to  the  most  indefensible  conduct;  but  with  all  his  ele¬ 
gance,  with  all  his  art,  he  can  not  rescue  Philistus  from  the 
imputation  of  being  the  most  strenuous  supporter  of  arbitrary 
power,  of  being  the  fondest  follower  and  admirer  of  the  luxu¬ 
ry,  the  magnificence,  the  alliance  of  tyrants.  Upon  the  whole, 
he  who  neither  defends  the  principles  of  Philistus;  nor  insults 
over  his  misfortunes,  will  best  discharge  the  duty  of  the  his- 
torian.v 

There  is  such  a  thing  as  constitutional  religion.  There  is  a 
certain  temper  and  frame  of  mind  naturally  productive  of  de¬ 
votion.  There  are  men  who  are  born  with  the  original  prin¬ 
ciples  of  piety;  and  in  this  class  we  need  not  hesitate  to  place 
Plutarch. 

If  this  disposition  has  sometimes  made  him  too  indulgent  to 
superstition,  and  too  attentive  to  the  less  rational  circumstan¬ 
ces  of  the  heathen  theology,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered.  But, 
upon  the  vThole,  he  had  consistent  and  honourable  notions  of 
the  Supreme  Being. 

That  he  believed  the  unity  of  the  Divine  Nature,  we  have 
already  seen  in  his  observations  on  the  word  n,  engraved  on 
Apollo's  temple.  The  same  opinion  too  is  found  in  his  trea- 

Vol.  j.  4 


22 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


tise  on  the  Cessation  of  Oracles;  where,  in  the  character  of  a 
Platonist,  he  argues  against  the  Stoics,  who  denied  the  plu¬ 
rality  of  worlds ; — ‘  ‘  If  there  are  many  worlds,  ”  said  the  Stoics, 
u  why  then  is  there  only  one  fate,  and  one  providence  to 
ide  them?  for  the  Platonists  allow  that  there  is  but  one. — 


Why  should  not  many  Jupiters,  or  gods,  be  necessary  for  the 
government  of  many  worlds?”  To  this  Plutarch  answers, — - 
u  Where  is  the  necessity  of  supposing  many  Jupiters  for  this 
plurality  of  worlds?  Is  not  one  Excellent  Being,  endued  with 
reason  and  intelligence,  such  as  he  is  whom  we  acknowledge 
to  be  the  Father  and  Lord  of  all  things,  sufficient  to  direct  and 
rule  these  worlds?  If  there  were  more  supreme  agents,  their 
decrees  would  be  vain,  and  contradictory  to  each  other.” 

But  though  Plutarch  acknowledged  the  individuality  of  the 
Supreme  Being,  he  believed,  nevertheless,  in  the  existence  of 
intermediate  beings  of  an  inferior  order,  between  the  divine 
and  the  human  nature.  These  beings  he  calls  genii,  or  dae¬ 
mons.  It  is  impossible,  he  thinks,  from  the  general  order 
and  principles  of  creation,  that  there  should  be  no  mean  be¬ 
twixt  the  two  extremes  of  a  mortal  and  immortal  being;  that 
there  can  not  be  in  nature  so  great  a  vacuum,  without  some 
intermediate  species  of  life,  which  might  in  some  measure 
partake  of  both.  And  as  we  find  the  connection  between  soul 
and  body  to  be  made  by  means  of  the  animal  spirits,  so  these 
daemons  are  intelligences  between  divinity  and  humanity. 
Their  nature,  however,  is  believed  to  be  progressive.  At  first 
they  are  supposed  to  have  been  virtuous  men,  whose  souls 
being  refined  from  the  gross  parts  of  their  former  existence, 
are  admitted  into  the  higher  order  of  genii,  and  are  from 
thence  either  raised  to  a  more  exalted  mode  of  ethereal  being, 
or  degraded  to  mortal  forms,  according  to  their  merit,  or  their 
degeneracy.  One  order  of  these  genii,  he  supposes,  presided 
over  oracles;  others  administered,  under  the  Supreme  Being, 
the  affairs  and  the  fortunes  of  men,  supporting  the  virtuous, 
punishing  the  bad,  and  sometimes  even  communicating  with 
the  best  and  purest  natures.  Thus  the  genius  of  Socrates  still 
warned  him  of  approaching  danger,  and  taught  him  to  avoid  it. 

It  is  this  order  of  beings  which  the  late  Mr.  Thomson,  who 
in  enthusiasm  was  a  Platonist,  and  in  benevolence  a  Pythago¬ 
rean,  has  so  beautifully  described  in  his  Seasons;  and,  as  if  the 
good  bard  had  believed  the  doctrine,  he  pathetically  invokes 
a  favourite  spirit  which  had  lately  forsaken  its  former  mam 
sion: — 

And  art  thou,  Stanley,  of  that  sacred  band' 

Alas!  for  us  too  soon! - 


LIFE  OF  PLUTAiiCH. 


2  3 


Such  were  Plutarch’s  religious  principles;  and  as  a  proof 
that  he  thought  them  of  consequence,  he  entered,  after  his  re* 
tirement,  into  a  sacred  character,  and  was  consecrated  priest 
of  Apollo. 

This  was  not  his  sole  appointment,  when  he  returned  to 
Chaeronea.  He  united  the  sacerdotal  with  the  magistratial 
ch  aracter,  and  devoted  himself  at  once  to  the  service  of  the 
gods,  and  to  the  duties  of  society  .  He  did  not  think  that 
philosophy,  or  the  pursuit  of  letters,  ought  to  exempt  any  man 
from  personal  service  in  the  community  to  which  he  belong¬ 
ed;  and  though  his  literary  labours  were  of  the  greatest  im¬ 
portance  to  the  world,  he  sought  no  excuse  in  those  from  dis¬ 
charging  offices  of  public  trust  in  his  little  city  of  Chaeronea. 

It  appears  that  he  passed  through  several  of  these  offices, 
and  that  he  was  at  last  appointed  archon,  or  chief  magistrate 
of  the  city.  Whether  he  retained  his  superintendency  of 
Illyria  after  the  death  of  Trajan,  we  do  not  certainly  know; 
but,  in  this  humble  sphere,  it  will  be  worth  our  while  to  in¬ 
quire  in  what  manner  a  philosopher  would  administer  justice. 

With  regard  to  the  inferior  offices  that  he  bore,  he  looked 
upon  them  in  the  same  light  as  the  great  Epaminondas  had 
done,  who,  when  he  was  appointed  to  a  commission  beneath 
his  rank,  observed, — “  That  no  office  could  give  dignity  to 
him  that  held  it;  but  that  he  who  held  it  might  give  dignity 
to  any  office.”  It  is  not  unentertaining  to  hear  our  philoso¬ 
pher  apologize  for  his  employment,  when  he  discharges  the 
office  of  commissioner  of  sewers  and  public  buildings. — “I 
make  no  doubt,”  says  he,  “  that  the  citizens  of  Chaeronea  of¬ 
ten  smile,  when  they  see  me  employed  in  such  offices  as  these. 
On  such  occasions,  I  generally  call  to  mind  what  is  said  of 
Antisthenes.  When  he  was  bringing  home,  in  his  own  hands, 
a  dirty  fish  from  the  market,  some,  who  observed  it,  expressed 
their  surprise.  It  is  for  myself,  said  Antisthenes,  that  I  carry 
this  fish.  On  the  .contrary,  for  my  own  part,  when  I  am  ral¬ 
lied  for  measuring  tiles,  or  for  calculating  a  quantity  of  stones 
or  mortar,  I  answer,  that  it  is  not  for  myself  I  do  these  things, 
but  for  my  country.  For,  in  all  things  of  this  nature,  the 
public  utility  takes  off  the  disgrace;  and  the  meaner  the  office 
you  sustain  may  be,  the  greater  is  the  compliment  that  you 
pay  to  the  public.” 

Plutarch,  in  the  capacity  of  a  public  magistrate,  was  inde¬ 
fatigable  in  recommending  unanimity  to  the  citizens.  To 
carry  this  point  more  effectually,  he  lays  it  down  as  a  first 
principle,  that  a  magistrate  should  be  affable  and  easy  of  ac¬ 
cess;  that  his  house  should  always  be  open  as  a  place  of  refuge 
for  those  who  sought  for  justice;  and  that  he  should  not  satisfy 
himself  merely  with  allotting  certain  hours  of  the  day  to  sit 


24 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


for  the  despatch  of  business,  but  that  he  should  employ  a  part 
of  his  time  in  private  negociations,  in  making  up  domestic 
quarrels,  and  reconciling  divided  friends.  This  employment 
he  regarded  as  one  of  the  principal  parts  of  his  office;  and,  in¬ 
deed,  he  might  properly  consider  it  in  a  political  light;  for  it 
too  frequently  happens,  that  the  most  dangerous  public  fac¬ 
tions  are  at  first  kindled  by  private  misunderstandings.  Thusj 
in  one  part  of  his  works,  lie  falls  into  the  same  sentiment:— 
“  As  public  conflagrations,”  says  he,  “  do  not  always  begin 
in  public  edifices,  but  are  caused  more  frequently  by  some 
lamp  neglected  in  a  private  house;  so,  in  the  administration 
of  states,  it  does  not  always  happen  that  the  flame  of  sedition 
arises  from  political  differences,  but  from  private  dissensions, 
which,  running  through  along  chain  of  connections^  at  length 
affect  the  whole  body  of  the  people.  For  this  reason,  it  is 
one  of  the  principal  duties  of  a  minister  of  state  or  magistrate, 
to  heal  these  private  animosities,  and  to  prevent  them  from 
growing  into  public  divisions.  ”  After  these  observations,  he 
mentions  several  states  and  cities  which  had  owed  their  ruin 
to  the  same  little  causes;  and  then  adds,  that  we  ought  not  by 
any  means  to  be  inattentive  to  the  misunderstandings  of  pri¬ 
vate  men,  but  apply  to  them  the  most  timely  remedies;  for, 
oy  proper  care,  as  Cato  observes,  what  is  great  becomes  little, 
and  what  is  little  is  reduced  to  nothing.  Of  the  truth  of  these 
observations,  the  annals  of  our  own  country,  we  wish  we  had 
no  reason  to  say  our  own  times,  have  presented  us  with  many 
melancholy  instances. 

As  Plutarch  observed  that  it  was  a  fashionable  fault  amongst 
men  of  fortune  to  refuse  a  proper  respect  to  magistrates  of  in¬ 
ferior  rank,  he  endeavoured  to  remove  this  impolitic  evil  as 
well  by  precept  as  by  example: — “  To  learn  obedience  and  de¬ 
ference  to  the  magistrate,”  says  he,  “  is  one  of  the  first  and 
best  principles  of  discipline;  nor  ought  these  by  any  means  to 
be  dispensed  with,  though  that  magistrate  should  be  inferior 
to  us  in  figure  or  in  fortune.  For  how  absurd  is  it,  if,  in  the¬ 
atrical  exhibitions,  the  meanest  actor,  that  wears  a  momentary 
diadem,  shall  receive  his  due  respect  from  superior  players; 
and  yet,  in  civil  life,  men  of  greater  power  or  wealth  shall 
withhold  the  deference  that  is  due  to  the  magistrate!  In  this 
case,  however,  they  should  remember,  that  while  they  con 
suit  their  own  importance,  they  detract  from  the  honour  oi 
the  state.  Private  dignity  ought  always  to  give  place  to  pub¬ 
lic  authority;  as,  in  Sparta,  it  was  usual  for  the  kings  to  rise 
in  compliment  to  the  ephori.” 

With  regard  to  Plutarch’s  political  principles,  it  is  clear 
that  he  was,  even  whilst  at  Rome,  a  republican  in  heart  and 
a  friend  to  liberty.  But  this  does  him  no  peculiar  honour 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


25 


Such  privileges  are  the  birth-right  of  mankind;  and  they  are 
never  parted  with  but  through  fear  or  favour.  At  Rome,  he 
acted  like  a  philosopher  of  the  world:  Quando  noi  siamo  in  Roma , 
hoi  faciamo  come  eglino  fanno  in  Roma.  He  found  a  constitution 
which  he  had  not  power  to  alter;  yet,  though  he  could  not 
make  mankind  free,  he  made  them  comparatively  happy,  by 
teaching  clemency  to  their  temporary  ruler. 

At  Chseronea  we  find  him  more  openly  avowing  the  prin¬ 
ciples  of  liberty.  During  his  residence  at  Rome,  he  had  re¬ 
marked  an  essential  error  in  the  police.  In  all  complaints  and 

Erocesses,  however  trifling,  the  people  had  recourse  to  the 
rst  officers  of  state.  By  this  means  they  supposed  that  their 
interest  would  be  promoted;  but  it  had  a  certain  tendency  to 
enslave  them  still  more,  and  to  render  them  the  tools  and  de¬ 
pendents  of  court  power.  Of  these  measures  the  archon  of 
Chseronea  thus  expresses  his  disapprobation: — “  At  the  same 
time/’  says  he,  u  that  we  endeavour  to  render  a  city  obedi¬ 
ent  to  its  magistrates,  we  must  bew’are  of  reducing  it  to  a  ser 
vile  or  too  humiliating  a  condition.  Those  who  carry  every 
trifle  to  the  cognizance  oi  the  supreme  magistrate,  are  con¬ 
tributing  all  they  can  to  the  servitude  of  their  country.”  And 
it  is  undoubtedly  true,  that  the  habitual  and  universal  exertion 
of  authority  has  a  natural  tendency  to  arbitrary  dominion. 

We  have  now  considered  Plutarch  in  the  light  of  a  philo¬ 
sopher,  a  biographer,  and  a  magistrate;  we  have  entered  into 
his  moral,  religious,  and  political  character,  as  well  as  the  in¬ 
formations  we  could  obtain  would  enable  us.  It  only  remains 
that  we  view  him  in  the  domestic  sphere  of  life — that  little 
but  trying  sphere,  where  we  act  wholly  from  ourselves,  and 
assume  no  character  but  that  which  nature  and  education  has 
given  us. 

Dacier,  on  falling  into  this  part  of  Plutarch’s  history,  has 
made  a  whimsical  observation: — “  There  are  two  cardinal 
points,”  says  he,  “in  a  man’s  life,  which  determine  his  hap¬ 
piness  or  his  misery.  These  are,  his  birth,  and  his  marriage. 
It  is  in  vain  for  a  man  to  be  born  fortunate,  if  he  be  unfortu¬ 
nate  in  his  marriage.”  How  Dacier  could  reconcile  the  as¬ 
trologers  to  this  new  doctrine,  it  is  not  easy  to  say;  for,  upon 
this  principle  a  man  must  at  least  have  two  good  stars,  one  for 
his  birth-day,  the  other  for  his  wedding-day;  as  it  seems  that 
the  influence  of  the  natal  star  could  not  extend  beyond  tne 
bridal  morn,  but  that  a  man  then  falls  under  a  different  cc- 
minion. 

At  what  time  Plutarch  entered  into  this  state,  we  are  not 
quae  certain;  but  as  it  is  not  probable  that  a  man  of  his  wis¬ 
dom  would  marry  at  an  advanced  time  of  life,  and  as  his  wife 
was  a  native  of  Chaeronea,  we  may  conclude  that  he  married 
Vol.  i - F  4* 


26 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


oefore  he  went  to  Rome.  However  that  might  be,  it  appears 
that  he  was  fortunate  in  his  choice;  for  his  wife  was  not  only 
well  born,  and  well  bred,  but  a  woman  of  distinguished  sense 
and  virtue.  Her  name  was  Timoxena. 

Plutarch  appears  to  have  had  at  least  five  children  by  her, 
four  sons  and  a  daughter,  whom  out  of  regard  for  her  mother, 
he  called  Timoxena.  He  has  given  us  a  proof  that  he  had  all 
ths  tenderness  of  an  affectionate  father  for  these  children,  by 
recording  a  little  instance  of  his  daughter’s  natural  benevo¬ 
lence: — “  When  she  was  very  young,”  says  he,  “  she  would 
frequently  beg  of  her  nurse  to  give  the  breast  not  only  to  the 
other  children,  but  to  her  babies  and  dolls,  which  she  consi¬ 
dered  as  her  dependents,  and  under  her  protection.”  Who 
does  not  see,  in  this  simple  circumstance,  at  once  the  fondness 
of  the  parent,  and  the  benevolent  disposition  of  the  man? 

But  the  philosopher  soon  lost  his  little  blossom  of  humani¬ 
ty.  His  Timoxena  died  in  her  infancy;  and,  if  we  may  judge 
from  the  consolatory  letter  he  wrote  to  her  mother  on  tne  oc¬ 
casion,  he  bore  the  loss  as  became  a  philosopher: — “  Consi¬ 
der,”  said  he,  “that  death  has  deprived  your  Timoxena  only 
of  small  enjoyments.  The  things  she  knew  were  of  little  con 
sequence,  and  she  could  be  delighted  only  with  trifles.”  In 
this  letter  we  find  a  portrait  of  his  wife,  which  does  hei 
the  greatest  honour.  From  the  testimony  given  by  her  hus¬ 
band,  it  appears  that  she  was  far  above  the  general  weakness 
and  affectation  of  her  sex.  She  had  no  passion  for  the  expen¬ 
siveness  of  dress,  or  the  parade  of  public  appearances.  She 
thought  every  kind  of  extravagance  blameable;  and  her  ambi 
tion  went  not  beyond  the  decencies  and  proprieties  of  life. 

Plutarch  had,  before  this,  buried  two  of  his  sons,  his  eldest 
son,  and  a  younger  named  Charon;  and  it  appears,  from  the 
above-mentioned  letter,  that  the  conduct  of  Timoxena,  on 
these  events,  was  worthy  the  wife  of  a  philosopher.  She  did 
not  disfigure  herself  by  change  of  apparel,  or  give  way  to  the 
extravagance  of  grief,  as  women  in  general  do  on  such  occa¬ 
sions,  but  supported  the  dispensations  of  Providence  with  a 
solemn  and  rational  submission,  even  when  they  seemed  to  be 
most  severe.  She  had  taken  unwearied  pains,  and  undergone 
the  greatest  sufferings  to  nurse  her  son  Charon  at  her  own 
oreast,  at  a  time  when  an  abscess,  formed  near  the  part,  had 
obliged  her  to  undergo  an  incision;  yet,  when  the  child,  rear¬ 
ed  with  so  much  tender  pain  and  difficulty,  died,  those  who 
Went  to  visit  heron  the  melancholy  occasion,  found  her  house 
in  no  more  disorder  than  if  nothing  distressful  had  happened. 
She  received  her  fr.ends  as  Admetus  entertained  Hercules, 
who,  the  same  day  that  he  buried  Alceste,  betrayed  not  the 
east  confusion  before  his  heroic  guest. 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


2  7 


With  a  woman  of  so  much  dignity  of  mind  and  excellence 
of  disposition,  a  man  of  Plutarch’s  wisdom  and  humanity  must 
have  been  infinitely  happy ;  and,  indeed,  it  appears  from  those 
precepts  of  conjugal  happiness  and  affection  which  he  has  left 
us,  that  he  has  drawn  his  observations  from  experience,  and 
that  the  rules  he  recommended  had  been  previously  exempli¬ 
fied  in  his  own  family. 

It  is  said  that  Plutarch  had  some  misunderstanding  with  his 
wise’s  relations;  upon  which  Timoxena,  fearing  that  it  might 
afff  ct  their  union,  had  duty  and  religion  enough  to  go  as  far 
as  Mount  Helicon,  and  sacrifice  to  Love,  who  had  a  celebra 
ted  temple  there. 

He  left  two  sons,  Plutarch  and  Lamprias.  The  latter  ap¬ 
pears  to  have  been  a  philosopher,  and  it  is  to  him  we  are  in¬ 
debted  for  a  catalogue  of  his  father’s  writings,  which,  how¬ 
ever,  one  can  not  look  upon,  as  Mr.  Dryden  says,  without  the 
same  emotions  that  a  merchant  must  feel  in  perusing  a  bill  of 
freight,  after  he  has  lost  his.  vessel.  The  writings,  no  longer 
extant,  are  these: — 


The  Lives  of< 


Hercules, 

Hesiod, 

Pindar, 

Crates  and  Diaphantus,  with  a  Parallel, 
Leonidas, 

Aristomenes, 

Scipio  Africanus,  junior,  and  Metellus, 
Augustus, 

Tiberius, 

Claudius, 

Nero, 

Caligula, 

Vitellius, 

Epaminondas  and  the  Elder  Scipio,  with 
Parallel. 


Four  Books  of  Commentaries  on  Homer. 

Four  Books  of  Commentaries  on  Hesiod. 

Five  Books  to  Empedocles,  on  the  Quintessence. 
Five  Books  of  Essays. 

Three  Books  of  Fables. 

Three  Books  of  Rhetoric. 

Three  Books  on  the  Introduction  of  the  Soul. 
Two  Books  of  Extracts  from  the  Philosophers. 
Three  Books  on  Sense. 

Three  Books  on  the  great  Actions  of  Cities. 

Two  Books  on  Politics. 


28 


LIFE  OF  PLUTA11CH. 


An  Essay  on  Opportunity,  to  Theophrastus, 

Four  Books  on  the  Obsolete  Parts  of  History. 

Two  Books  of  Proverbs. 

Eight  Books  on  the  Topics  of  Aristotle. 

Three  Books  on  Justice,  to  Chrysippus. 

An  Essay  on  Poetry. 

A  Dissertation  on  the  Difference  between  the  Pyrrhonians  ajul 
the  Academicians. 

A  Treatise  to  prove  that  there  was  but  one  Academy  of  Plato. 

Aulus  Gellius  has  taken  a  long  story  from  Taurus,  about 
Plutarch’s  method  of  correcting  a  slave,  in  which  there  is  no¬ 
thing  more  than  this,  that  he  punished  him  like  a  philosopher, 
and  gave  him  his  discipline  without  being  out  of  temper. 

Plutarch  had  a  nephew  named  Sextus,  who  bore  a  consid¬ 
erable  reputation  in  the  world  of  letters,  and  taught  the  Greek 
language  and  learning  to  Marcus  Antonius.  The  character 
which  that  philosopher  has  given  him,  in  his  First  Book  ol 
Reflections,  may,  with  great  propriety,  be  applied  to  his 
uncle: — 66  Sextus,  by  his  example,  taught  me  mildness  and 
humanity;  to  govern  my  house  like  a  good  father  of  a  family; 
to  fall  into  an  easy  and  unaffected  gravity  of  manners;  to  live 
agreeably  to  nature;  to  find  out  the  art  of  discovering  and  pre¬ 
venting  the  wants  of  my  friends;  to  connive  at  the  noisy  fol¬ 
lies  'f  the  ignorant  and  impertinent;  and  to  comply  with  the 
understandings  and  the  humours  of  men-” 

One  of  the  rewards  of  philosophy  is  long  life;  and  it  is  clear 
that  Plutarch  enjoyed  this;  but  of  the  time,  or  the  circum¬ 
stances  of  his  death,  we  have  no  satisfactory  account. 


PLUTARCH’S  LIVES 


THE 

LIFE  OF  THESEUS. 


As  geographers  thrust  into  the  extremities  of  their  maps 
those  countries  that  are  unknown  to  them,  remarking  at  the 
same  time,  that  all  beyond  is  hills  of  sand,  and  haunts  of  wild 
beasts,  frozen  seas,  marshes  and  mountains  that  are  inaccessi¬ 
ble  to  human  courage  or  industry;  so,  in  comparing  the  lives 
of  illustrious  men,  when  I  have  past  through  those  periods  of 
time  which  may  be  described  witn  probability,  and  where  his¬ 
tory  may  find  firm  footing  in  facts,  I  may  say,  my  Senecio,* 
of  the  remoter  ages,  that  all  beyond  is  full  of  prodigy  and  fic¬ 
tion,  the  regions  of  poets  and  fabulists,  wrapt  in  clouds,  and 
unworthy  of  belief,  t  Yet  since  I  had  given  an  account  of 
Lycurgus  and  Numa,  I  thought  I  might,  without  impropriety, 
ascend  to  Romulus,  as  I  had  approached  his  times.  But  con¬ 
sidering 

Who,  for  the  palm,  in  contest  high  shall  join? 

Or  who  in  equal  ranks  shaT  stand  > 

(as  Aeschylus  expresses  it,)  it  appeared  to  me,  that  he  who 
peopled  the  beautiful  and  famed  city  of  Athens,  might  be  best 
contrasted  and  compared  with  the  father  of  the  magnificent 
and  invincible  Rome.  Permit  us  then  to  take  from  Fable  her 
extravagance,  and  make  her  yield  to,  and  accept  the  form  of 
History;  but  where  she  obstinately  despises  probability,  and 
refuses  to  mix  with  what  is  credible,  we  must  implore  the 

*  Sossius  Senecio,  a  man  of  consular  dignity,  who  flourished  under  Nerva 
and  Trajan,  and  to  whom  Pliny  addressed  some  of  his  Epistles:  not  the  Se- 
necio  put  to  death  by  Domitian. 

f  The  wild  fictions  of  the  fabulous  ages  may  partly  be  accounted  for  from 
the  genius  of  the  writers,  who,  as  Plutarch  observes,  were  chiefly  poets; 
and  partly  from  an  affectation  of  something  extraordinary  or  preternatural 
in  antiquity,  which  has  generally  prevailed,  both  in  nations  and  families. 


30 


THESEUS. 


candour  of  our  readers,  and  their  kind  allowance  for  the  tales 
of  antiquity. 

Theseus,  then,  appeared  to  answer  to  Romulus  in  many  par 
ticulars.  Both  were  of  uncertain  parentage,  born  out  of  wed 
lock;  and  both  had  the  repute  of  being  sprung  from  the  gods 
Both  stood  in  the  first  rank  of  warriors;  for  both  had  great 
powers  of  mind,  with  great  strength  of  body.  One  was  the 
founder  of  Rome,  and  one  peopled  Athens,  the  most  illustri¬ 
ous  cities  in  the  world.  Both  carried  off  women  by  violence; 
both  were  involved  in  domestic  miseries,  and  exposed  to 
family  resentment;* * * §  and  both,  towards  the  end  of  their  lives, 
are  said  to  have  offended  their  respective  citizens,  if  we  may 
believe  what  seems  to  be  delivered  with  the  least  mixture  of 
poetical  fiction. 

The  lineage  of  Theseus,  by  his  father’s  side,  stretches  to 
Erectheus  and  the  first  inhabitants  of  his  country;!  by  his 
mother’s  side  to  Pelops,!  who  was  the  most  powerful  of  all 
the  Peloponnesian  kings,  not  only  on  account  of  his  great 
opulence,  but  the  number  of  his  children;  for  he  married  his 
daughters  to  persons  of  the  first  dignity,  and  found  means  to 
place  his  sons  at  the  head  of  the  chief  states.  One  of  them, 
named  Pittheus,  grandfather  to  Theseus,  founded  the  small 
city  of  Troezene,  and  was  esteemed  the  most  learned,  and  the 
wisest  man  of  his  age.  The  essence  of  the  wisdom  of  those 
days  consisted  in  such  moral  sentences  as  Hesiod§  is  cele¬ 
brated  for  in  his  Book  of  Works.  One  of  these  is  ascribed 
to  Pittheus: — 

Blast  not  the  hope  which  friendship  has  conceived, 

But  fill  its  measure  high. 


*Oi>§Ef'£po$  8s  8v$v%lciv  7tepL  oixsia  xai  vsy,s6w  syysvrj  8is<pvysr. 

*(*  Theseus  was  the  sixth  in  descent  from  Erectheus,  or  Ericthonius,  said 
to  be  the  son  of  Vulcan  and  Minerva,  or  Cranae,  granddaughter  of  Cranaus, 
the  second  king  of  Athens;  so  that  Plutarch  very  justly  says,  that  Theseus 
was  descended  from  the  Autocthones,  or  first  inhabitants  of  Attica,  who 
were  so  called,  because  they  pretended  to  be  born  in  that  very  country.  It 
is  generally  allowed,  however,  that  this  kingdom  was  founded  by  Cecrops, 
an  Egyptian,  who  brought  hither  a  colony  of  Saites,  about  the  year  of  the 
world  2448,  before  Christ  1556.  The  inhabitants  of  Attica,  were,  indeed, 
a  more  ancient  people  than  those  of  many  other  districts  of  Greece,  which 
being  of  a  more  fertile  soil,  often  changed  their  masters,  while  few  were  am¬ 
bitious  of  settling  in  a  barren  country. 

t  Pelops  was  the  son  of  Tantalus,  and  of  Phrygian  extraction.  He  car¬ 
ried  with  him  immense  riches  into  Peloponnesus,  which  he  had  dug  out  of 
the  mines  of  Mount  Sypilus.  By  means  of  this  wealth,  he  got  the  govern¬ 
ment  of  the  most  considerable  towns  for  his  sons,  and  married  his  daughters 
to  princes. 

§  Hesiod  flourished  about  five  hundred  years  after  Pittheus.  Solomon 
wrote  his  Moral  Sentences  two  or  tlu*ee  hundred  years  after  Pittheus. 


THESEUS, 


31 

This  is  confirmed  by  Aristotle.  And  Euripides,  in  saying 
that  Hippolytus  was  taught  by  u  the  sage  and  venerable  Pit¬ 
theus,”  gives  him  a  very  honourable  testimony. 

iEgeus,  wanting -to  have  children,  is  said  to  have  received, 
from  the  oracle  at  Delphi,  that  celebrated  answer,  which  com¬ 
manded  him  not  to  approach  any  woman  before  he  returned 
to  Athens.  But  as  the  oracle  seemed  not  to  give  him  clear 
instruction,  he  came  toTroczene,  and  communicated  it  to  Pit- 
theus  in  the  following  terms: — 

“  The  mystic  vessel  shall  untouch’d  remain/* 

Till  in  thy  native  realm. - 

It  is  uncertain  what  Pittheus  saw  in  this  oracle;  howevei, 
either  by  persuasion  or  deceit,  he  drew  iEgeus  into  conver¬ 
sation  with  his  daughter  iEthra.  iEgeus  afterwards  coming 
to  know  that  she  whom  he  had  lain  with  was  Pittbeus’s  daugh 
ter,  and  suspecting  her  to  be  with  child,  hid  a  sword  and  a 
pair  of  sandals  under  a  large  stone,  which  had  a  cavity  for  the 
purpose.  Before  his  departure,  he  told  the  secret  to  the  prin¬ 
cess  only,  and  left  orders,  that  if  she  brought  forth  a  son,  who, 
when  he  came  to  a  man’s  estate,  should  be  able  to  remove  the 
stone,  and  take  away  the  things  left  under  it,  she  should  send 
him  with  those  tokens  to  him,  with  all  imaginable  privacy ;  for 
he  was  very  much  afraid  that  some  plot  would  be  formed 
against  him  by  the  Pallantidas,  who  despised  him  for  his  want 
of  children.  These  were  fifty  brothers,  the  sons  of  Pallas.* 

iEthra  was  delivered  of  a  son;  and  some  say  he  was  imme¬ 
diately  named  Theseus,!  because  of  the  laying  up  of  the  to¬ 
kens;  others,  that  he  received  his  name  afterwards  at  Athens, 
when  iEgeus  acknowledged  him  for  his  son.  He  was  brought 
up  by  Pittheus,  and  had  a  tutor  named  Connidas,  to  whom  the 
Athenians,  even  in  our  times,  sacrifice  a  ram,  on  the  day  pre¬ 
ceding  the  Thesean  feasts,  giving  this  honour  to  his  memory 
upon  a  much  juster  account  than*  that  which  they  pay  to  Sila- 
nion  and  Parrhasius,  who  only  made  statues  and  pictures  of 
Theseus. 

*  Pallas  was  brother  to  JEgeus;  and  as  JEgeus  was  supposed  to  have  no 
children,  the  Pallantidae  considered  the  kingdom  of  Athens  as  their  undoubt¬ 
ed  inheritance.  It  was  natural,  therefore,  for  JEgeils  to  conclude,  that  if  they 
came  to  know  he  had  a  son,  they  would  attempt  to  assassinate  either  him  or 
his  son. 

f  The  Greeks,  as  well  as  the  Hebrews,  gave  names  both  to  persons  and 
things  from  some  event  or  circumstance  attending  that  which  they  were  to 
name.  The  Greek  word  Thesis  signifies  laying  up ,  and  thesthai  uiony  to 
acknowledge ,  or  rather  to  adopt  a  son.  iEgeus  did  both;  the  ceremony  of 
adoption  being  necessary  to  enable  Theseus,  who  was  not  a  legitimate  son, 
to  inherit  the  crown. 


32 


THESEUS. 


As  it  was  then  the  custom  for  such  as  had  arrived  at  man  s 
estate,  to  go  to  Delphi  to  offer  the  first-fruits  of  their  hair  to 
Apollo,  Theseus  went  thither,  and  the  place  where  this  cere¬ 
mony  is  performed,  from  him,  is  said  to  be  yet  called  Thesea. 
He  shaved,  however,  only  the  fore-part  oi  his  head,  as  Ho¬ 
mer  tells  us  the  Abantes  did;*  and  this  kind  of  tonsure,  on  his 
account,  was  called  Theseis.  The  Abantes  first  cut  their  hair 
in  this  manner,  not  in  imitation  of  the  Arabians,  as  some  ima¬ 
gine,  nor  yet  of  the  Mysians,  but  because  they  were  a  war¬ 
like  people,  who  loved  close  fighting,  and  were  more  expert 
m  it  than  any  other  nation.  Thus  Archilochust — 

These  twang1  not  bows,  nor  sling  the  hissing  stone. 

When  Mars  exults,  and  fields  with  armies  groan* 

Far  nobler  skill  Euboea’s  sons  display, 

And  with  the  thundering  sword  decide  the  fray. 

That  they  might  not,  therefore,  give  advantage  to  their  ene¬ 
mies  by  their  hair,  they  took  care  to  cut  it  off.  And  we  are 
informed,  that  Alexander  of  Macedon,  having  made  the  same 
observation,  ordered  his  Macedonian  troops  to  cut  off  their 
beards,  these  beinga  ready  handle  in  battle. 

For  some  time  AEthra  declared  not  the  real  father  of  The¬ 
seus;  but  the  report  propagated  by  Pittheus  was  that  he  was 
the  son  of  Neptune;  for  the  Troezenians  principally  worship 
that  god:  he  is  the  patron  of  their  city;  to  him  they  offer  their 
first-fruits;  and  their  money  bears  the  impression  of  a  trident 
Theseus,  in  his  youth  discovering  not  only  great  strength  of 
body,  but  firmness  and  solidity  of  mind,  together  with  a  large 
share  of  undei  standing  and  prudence,  iEthra  led  him  to  the 
stone,  and  having  told  him  the  truth  concerning  his  origin, 
ordered  him  to  take  up  his  father’s  tokens,  and  sail  to  Athens. 
He  easily  removed  the  stone,  but  refused  to  go  by  sea,  though 
he  might  have  done  it  with  great  safety,  and  though  he  was 
pressed  to  it  by  the  entreaties  of  his  grandfather  and  mother; 
while  it  was  hazardous,  at  that  time,  to  go  by  land  to  Athens, 
because  no  part  was  free  from  the  danger  of  ruffians  and  rob¬ 
bers.  Those  times,  indeed,  produced  men  of  strong  and  in¬ 
defatigable  powers  of  body,  of  extraordinary  swiftness  and 
agility;  but  they  applied  those  powers  to  nothing  just  or  use¬ 
ful.  On  the  contrary,  their  genius,  their  disposition,  their 

*  The  Abantes  were  the  inhabitants  of  Euboea,  but  originally  of  Abae,  a 
t  jwn  in  Thrace. 

j-  Archilochus  was  a  Greek  poet,  who  lived  about  the  time  of  Romulus. 
Homer  had  given  the  same  account  of  the  Abantes  above  three  hundred 
years  before;  for,  in  the  second  book  of  the  Iliad,  he  tells  us,  the  Abantes 
pierced  the  breast-plates  of  their  enemies  with  extended  spears  or  pikes;  thal 
is  to  say,  they  fought  hand  to  hand. 


THESEUS. 


S3 


pleasures,  tended  only  to  insolence,  to  violence,  and  to  rapine. 
As  for  modesty,  justice,  equity,  and  humanity,  they  looked 
upon  them  as  qualities  in  which  those  who  had  h  in  their 
power  to  add  to  their  possessions,  had  no  manner  oi  concern; 
virtues  praised  only  by  such  as  were  afraid  of  being  injured, 
and  who  abstained  from  injuring  others  out  of  the  same  prin¬ 
ciple  of  fear.  Some  of  these  ruffians  were  cut  off  by  Hercules 
in  his  peregrinations,  while  others  escaped  to  their  lurking 
holes,  and  were  spared  by  the  hero  in  contempt  of  their  cow¬ 
ardice.  But  when  Hercules  had  unfortunately  killed  Iphitus, 
he  retired  to  Lydia,  where,  for  a  long  time,  he  was  a  slave  to 
Omphale,*  a  punishment  which  he  imposed  upon  himself  for 
the  murder.  The  Lydians  then  enjoyed  great  quiet  and  se¬ 
curity;  but  in  Greece  the  same  kind  of  enormities  broke  out 
anew,  there  being  no  one  to  restrain  or  quell  them.  It  was 
therefore  extremely  dangerous  to  travel  by  land  from  Pelo¬ 
ponnesus  to  Athens;  and  Pittheus,  acquainting  Theseus  with 
the  number  of  these  ruffians,  and  with  their  cruel  treatment  of 
strangers,  advised  him  to  go  by  sea.  But  he  had  long  secretly 
been  fired  with  the  glory  of  Hercules,  whom  he  held  in  the 
highest  esteem,  listening  with  great  attention  to  such  as  re¬ 
lated  his  achievements,  particularly  to  those  that  had  seen  him, 
conversed  with  him,  and  had  been  witnesses  to  his  prowess. 
He  was  affected  in  the  same  manner  as  Themistocles  after¬ 
wards  was,  when  he  declared  that  the  trophies  of  Miltiades 
would  not  suffer  him  to  sleep.  The  virtues  of  Hercules  were 
his  dream  by  night,  and  by  day  emulation  led  him  out,  and 
spurred  him  on  to  perform  some  exploits  like  his.  Besides, 
they  were  nearly  related,  being  born  of  cousin-germans,  for 
iEthra  was  the  daughter  of  Pittheus,  and  Alcmena  of  Lysi- 
dice,  and  Pittheus  and  Lysidice  were  brother  and  sister  by 
Pelops  and  Hippodamia.  He  considered  it,  therefore,  as  an 
insupportable  dishonour,  that  Hercules  should  traverse  both 
sea  and  land  to  clear  them  of  these  villains,  while  he  himself 
declined  such  adventures  as  occurred  to  him;  disgracing  his 
reputed  father,  if  he  took  his  voyage,  or  rather  flight  by  sea; 
and  carrying  to  his  real  father  a  pair  of  sandals  and  a  sword 
mstained  with  blood,  instead  of  the  ornament  of  great  and 
good  actions,  to  assert  and  add  lustre  to  his  noble  birth.  With 
such  thoughts  and  resolutions  as  these  he  set  forward,  deter¬ 
mining  to  injure  no  one,  but  to  take  vengeance  of  such  as 
should  offer  him  any  violence. 

He  was  first  attacked  by  Periphetes,  in  Epidauria,  whose 

*  Those  who  had  been  guilty  of  murder,  became  voluntary  exiles  and  im¬ 
posed  on  themselves  a  certain  penance,  which  they  continued  till  they 
thought  their  crime  expiated. 

V'ol.  r  -Cl  5 


$4 


THESEUS. 


weapon  was  a  club,  and  who,  on  that  account,  was  called  Co* 
rynetes,  or  the  Club-bearer.  He  engaged  with  him,  and  slew 
him.  Delighted  with  the  club,  he  took  it  for  his  weapon,  and 
used  it  as  Hercules  did  the  lion’s  skin.  The  skin  was  a  proof 
of  the  vast  size  of  the  wild  beast  which  that  hero  had  slain ; 
and  Theseus  carried  about  with  him  this  club,  whose  stroke 
he  had  been  able  to  parry,  but  which,  in  his  hand,  was  irre¬ 
sistible.  In  the  Isthmus  he  slew  Sinnis  the  Pine-bender,*  in 
the  same  manner  as  he  had  destroyed  many  others;  and  this  he 
did,  not  as  having  learned  or  practised  the  bending  of  those 
trees,  but  to  show  that  natural  strength  is  above  all  art.  Sinnis 
had  a  daughter  remarkable  for  her  beauty  and  stature,  named 
Perigune,  who  had  concealed  herself  when  her  father  was 
killed.  Theseus  made  diligent  search  for  her,  and  found  at 
last  that  she  had  retired  into  a  place  overgrown  with  shrubs, 
and  rushes,  and  wild  as,  iaragus.  In  her  childish  simplicity, 
she  addressed  her  prayej  >  and  vows  to  these  plants  and  bushes, 
as  if  they  could  have  a  s  ense  of  her  misfortune,  promising,  if 
they  would  save  and  hide  her,  that  she  would  never  burn  or 
destroy  them.  But  when  Theseus  pledged  his  honour  for 
treating  her  politely,  she  came  to  him,  and  in  due  time  brought 
him  a  son  named  Melanippus.  Afterwards,  by  Theseus’s  per¬ 
mission,  she  married  Dei'oneus,  the  son  of  Eurytusthe  CEcha 
lian.  Melanippus  had  a  son  named  Ioxus,  who  joined  with 
Ornytus  in  planting  a  colony  in  Caria;  whence  the  Ioxides; 
with  v/hom  it  is  an  inviolable  rule,  not  to  burn  either  rushes 
or  wild  asparagus,  but  to  honour  and  worship  them. 

About  this  time  Crommyon  was  infested  by  a  wild  sow 
named  Phaea,  a  fierce  and  formidable  creature.  This  savage 
he  attacked  and  killed,!  going  out  of  his  way  to  engage  her 
and  thereby  showing  an  act  of  voluntary  valour;  for  he  be¬ 
lieved  it  equally  became  a  brave  man  to  stand  upon  his  de¬ 
fence  against  abandoned  ruffians,  and  to  seek  out,  and  begin 
the  combat  with  strong  and  savage  animals.  But  some  say, 
that  Phaea  was  an  abandoned  female  robber,  who  dwelt  in 
Crommyon;  that  she  had  the  name  of  Sow  from  her  life  and 
manners;  and  was  afterwards  slain  by  Theseus. 

On  the  borders  of  Megara  he ‘destroyed  Sciron,  a  robber, 
by  casting  him  headlong  from  a  precipice,  as  the  story  gene¬ 
rally  goes;  and  it  is  added,  that  in  wanton  villany,  this  Sciron 
used  to  make  strangers  wash  his  feet,  and  to  take  those  oppor 

*  Sinnis  was  so  called  from  his  bending*  the  heads  of  two  pines,  and  tying 
passengers  between  the  opposite  branches,  which  by  their  sudden  return, 
tore  them  to  pieces. 

f  In  this  instance  our  hero  deviated  from  the  principle  he  set  out  upoiij 
which  was  never  to  be  the  aggressor  in  any  engagement.  The  wild  sow 
was  certainly  no  less  respectable  an  animal  than  the  pine-bender. 


THESEUS. 


35 


turn  ties  to  push  them  into  the  sea.  But  the  writers  of  Me- 
gara,  in  contradiction  to  this  report,  and,  as  Simonides  ex¬ 
presses  it,  fighting  with  all  antiquity,  asserts,  that  Sciron  was 
neither  a  robber  nor  a  ruffian,  but,  on  the  contrary,  a  destroyer 
of  robbers,  and  a  man  whose  heart  and  house  were  ever  open 
to  the  good  and  the  honest.  For  iEacus,  say  they,  was  looked 
upon  as  the  justest  man  in  Greece,  Cychreus  of  Salamis  had 
divine  honours  paid  him  at  Athens,  and  the  virtue  of  Peleus 
aid  Telamon  too  was  universally  known.  Now,  Sciron  was 
son-in-law  to  Cychreus,  father-in-law  to  iEacus,  and  grand¬ 
father  to  Peleus  and  Telamon,  who  were  both  of  them  sons  of 
Endeis,  the  daughter  of  Sciron  and  Chariclo;  therefore,  it  was 
not  probable  that  the  best  of  men  should  make  such  alliances 
with  one  of  so  vile  a  character,  giving  and  receiving  the 
greatest  and  dearest  pledges.  Besides,  they  tell  us,  that  The¬ 
seus  did  not  slay  Sciron  in  his  first  journey  to  Athens,  but 
afterwards,  when  he  took  Eleusis  from  the  Megarensians 
having  expelled  Diodes,  its  chief  magistrate,  by  a  stratagem. 
In  such  contradictions  are  these  things  involved. 

At  Eleusis  he  engaged  in  wrestling  with  Cercyon  the  Arca¬ 
dian,  and  killed  him  on  the  spot.  Proceeding  to  Hermione,* 
lie  put  a  period  to  the  cruelties  of  Damastes,  sirnamed  Pro¬ 
crustes,  making  his  body  fit  the  size  of  his  own  beds,  as  he 
had  served  strangers.  These  things  he  did  in  imitation  of 
Hercules,  who  always  returned  upon  the  aggressors  the  same 
sort  of  treatment  which  they  intended  for  him;  for  that  hero 
sacrificed  Busiris,  killed  Antaeus  in  wrestling,  Cygnus  in  sin¬ 
gle  combat,  and  broke  the  skull  of  Termerus;  whence  this  is 
called  the  Termerian  mischief;  for  Termerus,  it  seems,  destroy¬ 
ed  the  passengers  he  met,  by  dashing  his  head  against  theirs. 
Thus  Theseus  pursued  his  travels,  to  punish  abandoned 
wretches,  who  suffered  the  same  kind  of  death  from  him  that 
they  inflicted  on  others,  and  were  requited  with  vengeance 
suitable  to  their  crimes. 

In  his  progress  he  came  to  the  Cephisus,  where  he  was  first 
saluted  by  some  of  the  Phytalidae.t  Upon  his  desire  to  have 
the  customary  purifications,  they  gave  him  them  in  due  form, 
and  having  offered  propitiatory  sacrifices,  invited  him  to  their 
houses.  This  was  the  first  hospitable  treatment  he  met  with 

*  This  seems  to  be  a  mistake;  for  we  know  of  no  place  called  Harmione, 
or  Hermione,  between  Eleusis  and  Athens.  Pausanias  calls  it  Erione;  and 
the  authors  of  the  Universal  History,  after  Philocorus,  call  it  Termione. 

f  These  were  the  descendants  of  Phytalus,  with  whom  Ceres  intrusted  the 
superintendence  of  her  holy  mysteries,  in  recompense  for  the  hospitality 
with  which  she  hod  been  treated  at  his  house.  Theseus  thought  himself 
unfit  to  be  admitted  to  those  mysteries  without  expiation,  because  he  had 
slipped  his  hands  in  blood,  though  it  was  only  that  of  thieves  and  robbers. 


36 


THESEUS. 


on  the  road.  He  is  said  to  have  arrived  at  Athens  on  the 
eighth  day  of  the  month  Cronius,  which  they  now  called  He- 
catomboeon  (July).  There  he  found  the  state  full  of  troubles 
and  distraction,  and  the  family  of  iEgeus  in  great  disorder, 
for  Medea,  who  had  fled  from  Corinth,  promised,  by  her  art, 
to  enable  AEgeus  to  have  children,  and  was  admitted  to  his 
bed-  She  first  discovering  Theseus,  whom  as  yet  iEgeus  did 
not  know,  persuaded  him,  now  in  years,  and  full  of  jealousies 
ind  suspicions,  on  account  of  the  faction  that  prevailed  in  the 
fity,  to  prepare  an  entertainment  for  him  as  a  stranger,  and 
cake  him  off  by  poison.  Theseus,  coming  to  the  banquet,  did 
not  intend  to  declare  himself  first,  but,  willing  to  give  his  fa¬ 
ther  occasion  to  find  him  out,  when  the  meat  was  served  up,  he 
drew  his  sword,*  as  if  he  designed  to  carve  with  it,  and  took 
care  it  should  attract  his  notice.  iEgeus  quickly  perceiving 
it,  dashed  down  the  cup  of  poison,  and,  after  some  questions, 
embraced  him  as  his  son;  then  assembling  the  people,  he  ac¬ 
knowledged  him  also  before  them,  who  received  him  with 
great  satisfaction,  on  account  of  his  valour.  The  cup  is  said 
to  have  fallen,  and  the  poison  to  have  been  spilt,  where  the 
enclosure  now  is,  in  the  place  called  Delphinium;  for  there  it 
was  that  iEgeus  dwelt;  and  the  Mercury  which  stands  on 
the  east  side  of  the  temple,  is  yet  called  the  Mercury  of 
ZEgeus’s  gate. 

The  Pallantidae,  who  hoped  to  recover  the  kingdom,  if 
ZEgeus  died  childless,  lost  all  patience  when  Theseus  was  de 
dared  his  successor.  Exasperated  at  the  thought  that  AEgeus, 
who  was  not  in  the  least  allied  to  the  Erechthidse,  but  only 
adopted  by  Pandion,t  should  first  gain  the  crown,  and  after¬ 
wards  Theseus,  who  was  an  emigrant  and  a  stranger,  they 
prepared  for  war;  and  dividing  their  forces,  one  party  marched 
openly,  with  their  father,  from  Sphettus  to  the  city;  and  the 
other  concealing  themsel  ves  in  Gargettus,  lay  in  ambush,  with 
a  design  to  attack  the  enemy  from  two  several  quarters.  They 
had  with  them  a  herald,  named  Leos,  of  the  tribe  of  Agnus. 
This  man  carried  to  Theseus  an  account  of  all  the  designs  of 
the  Pallantidae;  and  he  immediately  fell  upon  those  that  lay  in 
ambush,  and  destroyed  them.  Pallas  and  his  company  being 
informed  of  this,  thought  fit  to  disperse.  Hence  it  is  said  to 
be,  that  the  tribe  of  Pallene  never  intermarry  with  the  Ag- 

*  Some  needless  learning*  has  been  adduced  to  show,  that  in  the  heroic 
times  they  carved  with  a  cutlass  or  larg*e  knife,  and  not  with  a  sword;  and 
that,  consequently,  Plutarch  here  must  certainly  be  mistaken;  but  as 
signifies  either  a  cutlass  or  a  sword,  how  do  we  know  that  it  was  a  sword, 
and  not  a  cutlass,  which  JEg’eus  hid  under  the  stone  ? 

■f  It  has  been  actually  reported,  that  iEg*eus  was  not  the  son  of  Pandion* 
but  of  Scyfias. 


THESEUS. 


37 


nusians,  nor  suffer  any  proclamation  to  begin  with  these  words, 
Moueie  Leoi ,  (Hear,  0  ye  people-)  for  they  hate  the  very 
name  of  Leos,  on  account  of  the  treachery  of  that  herald. 

Theseus,  desirous  to  keep  himself  in  action,  and  at  the  same 
time  courting  the  favour  of  the  people,  went  against  the  Mara- 
thonian  bull,  which  did  no  small  mischief  to  the  inhabitants 
of  Tetrapolis.  When  he  had  taken  him,  he  brought  him  alive 
in  triumph  through  the  city,  and  afterwards  sacrificed  him  to* 
the  Delphinian  Apollo.  Hecale  also,  and  the  story  of  her  re¬ 
ceiving  and  entertaining  Theseus,  does  not  appear  destitute 
of  all  foundation;  for  the  people  in  that  neighbourhood  assem¬ 
ble  to  perform  the  Hecalesian  rites  to  Jupiter  Hecalus;  they 
honour  Hecale  too,  calling  her  by  the  diminutive,  Hecalene, 
because,  when  she  entertained  Theseus  while  he  was  but  a 
youth,  she  caressed  him  as  persons  in  years  used  to  do  chil¬ 
dren,  and  called  him  by  such  tender  diminutive  names.  She 
vowed,  moreover,  when  he  went  to  battle,  to  offer  sacrifices 
to  Jupiter,  if  he  returned  safe;  but  as  she  died  before  the  end 
of  the  expedition,  Theseus  performed  those  holy  rites  in  tes¬ 
timony  of  the  grateful  sense  he  had  of  her  hospitality.  So 
Philochorus  relates  the  story.  * 

Not  long  after,  there  came  the  third  time  from  Crete  the 
collectors  of  the  tribute,  exacted  on  the  following  occasion. 
Androgeust  being  treacherously  slain  in  Attica,  a  very  fatal 
war  was  carried  on  against  that  country  by  Minos,  and  divine 
vengeance  laid  it  waste;  for  it  was  visited  by  famine  and  pes¬ 
tilence,  and  want  of  water  increased  their  misery.  The  re¬ 
medy  that  Apollo  proposed,  was  that  they  should  appease  Mi¬ 
nos,  and  be  reconciled  to  him;  whereupon  the  wrath  of  heaven 
would  cease,  and  their  calamities  come  to  a  period.  In  con¬ 
sequence  of  this,  they  sent  amoassadors  with  their  submission; 
and,  as  most  writers  agree;  engaged  themselves,  by  treaty,  to 
send  every  ninth  year  a  tribute  of  seven  young  men,  and  as 
many  virgins.  When  these  were  brought  into  Crete,  the 
fabulous  account  informs  us,  that  they  were  destroyed  by  the 
Minotaurf  in  the  labyrinth,  or  that,  lost  in  its  mazes,  and 

*  Philochorus  was  an  Athenian  historian,  who  flourished  in  the  reign  of 
Ptolemy  Philopater,  about  two  hundred  years  before  the  birth  of  our  Savicur 
He  wrote  many  valuable  pieces,  of  which  nothing  remains  but  some  frag¬ 
ments  preserved  by  other  writers. 

f  Some  say  iEgeus  caused  him  to  be  murdered,  because  he  was  in  the 
interest  of  the  Pallantidx:  others,  that  he  was  killed  by  the  Marathonian 

bull. 

+  Feigned  by  the  poets  to  have  been  begot  by  a  bull  upon  Pasiphae, 
Minos’s  queen,  who  was  inspired,  it  seems,  with  this  horrid  passion  by  Nep 
tune,  in  revenge  for  Minos’s  refusing  him  a  beautiful  bull,  which  he  expert 
ed  as  an  offering. 

/>* 


38 


THESEUS. 


unable  to  find  the  way  out,  they  perished  there.  The  Mino- 
faur  was,  as  Euripides  tells  us, 

A  mingled  form,  prodigious  to  behold. 

Half  bull,  half  man ! 

But  Philochorus  says  the  Cretans  deny  this,  and  w;'l  not  al¬ 
low  the  labyrinth  to  have  been  any  thing  but  a  prison,  which 
had  no  other  inconvenience  than  this,  that  those  who  were 
confined  there  could  not  escape;  and  Minos  having  instituted 
games  in  honour  of  Androgeus,  the  prize  for  the  victors  was 
those  youths,  who  had  been  kept  till  that  time  in  the  labyrinth. 
He  that  first  won  the  prizes  in  those  games,  was  a  person  of 
great  authority  in  the  court  of  Minos,  and  general  of  his  ar¬ 
mies,  named  Taurus,  who  being  unmerciful  and  savage  in  his 
nature,  had  treated  the  Athenian  youths  with  great  insolence 
and  cruelty.  And  it  is  plain  that  Aristotle  himself,  in  his  ac¬ 
count  of  the  Bottioean  government,  does  not  suppose  that  the 
young  men  were  put  to  death  by  Minos,  but  that  they  lived, 
some  of  them  to  old  age,  in  servile  employments  in  Crete. 
He  adds,  that  the  Cretans,  in  pursuance  of  an  ancient  vow, 
once  sent  a  number  of  their  first-born  to  Delphi,  among  whom 
were  some  of  the  descendants  of  these  Athenian  slaves,  who 
not  being  able  to  support  themselves  there,  first  passed  from 
thence  into  Italy,  where  they  settled  about  Iapygia;  and  from 
thence  they  removed  again  into  Thrace,  and  were  called  Bot- 
ticeans.  Wherefore  the  Bottioean  \irgins,  in  some  solemnities 
of  religion,  sing — “  To  Athens  let  us  go.”  And,  indeed,  it 
seems  dangerous  to  be  at  enmity  with  a  city  which  is  the  seat 
of  eloquence  and  learning;  for  Minos  always  was  satirized  on 
the  Athenian  stage;  nor  was  his  fame  sufficiently  rescued  by 
Hesiod’s  calling  him  “  Supreme  of  Kings,”  or  Homer’s  say¬ 
ing,  that  he  conversed  with  Jove;”  for  the  writers  of  tragedy 
prevailing,  represented  him  as  a  man  of  vicious  character,* 
violent  and  implacable;  yet,  inconsistently  enough,  they  say 
that  Minos  was  a  king  and  a  lawgiver,  and  that  Rhadamanthus 
was  an  upright  judge,  and  guardian  of  the  laws  which  Minos 
had  made. 

When  the  time  of  the  third  tribute  came,  and  those  parents 
who  had  sons  not  arrived  at  full  maturity,  were  obliged  to  re¬ 
sign  them  to  the  lot,  complaints  against  iEgeus  sprung  up 
again  among  the  people,  who  expressed  their  grief  and  resent¬ 
ment,  that  he  who  was  the  cause  of  all  their  misfortunes,  bore 

*  This  is  a  mistake  into  which  Plutarch  and  several  other  writers  have 
fallen.  There  were  two  of  the  name  of  Minos;  one  was  the  son  of  Jupiter 
and  Europa,  and  a  just  and  exellent  prince;  the  other  his  grandson,  and  9on 
of  I  ,y  caster,  was  a  t3Tant. 


THESEUS. 


39 


nc>  part  of  the  punishment,  and  while  he  was  adopting,  and 
raising  to  the  succession,  a  stranger  of  spurious  birth,  took  no 
thought  for  them  who  lost  their  legitimate  children.  Those 
things  were  matter  of  great  concern  to  Theseus,  who,  to  ex¬ 
press  his  regard  for  justice,  and  take  his  share  in  the  common 
fortune,  voluntarily  offered  himself  as  one  of  the  seven,  without 
lot.  The  citizens  were  charmed  with  this  proof  of  his  mag- 
nanimity  and  public  spirit;  and  iEgeus  himself,  when  he  saw 
that  no  entreaties  or  persuasions  availed  to  turn  him  from  it, 
gave  out  the  lots  for  the  rest  of  the  young  men.  But  Hel- 
linachus  says,  that  the  youths  and  virgins  which  the  city  fur¬ 
nished,  were  not  chosen  by  lot,  but  that  Minos  came  in  per¬ 
son  and  selected  them,  and  Theseus  before  the  rest,  upon 
these  conditions: — That  the  Athenians  should  furnish  a  ves¬ 
sel,  and  the  young  men  embark  and  sail  along  with  him,  but 
carry  no  arms;  and  that  if  they  could  kill  the  Minotaur,  there 
should  be  an  end  of  the  tribute.  There  appearing  no  hopes  of 
safety  for  the  youths  in  the  two  former  tributes,  they  sent  out 
a  ship  with  the  black  sail,  as  carrying  them  to  certain  ruin. 
But  when  Theseus  encouraged  his  father  by  his  confidence  of 
success  against  the  Minotaur,  he  gave  another  sail,  a  white 
one,  to  the  pilot,  ordering  him,  if  he  brought  Theseus  safe 
back,  to  hoist  the  white;  but  if  not,  to  sail  with  the  black  one 
in  token  of  his  misfortune.  Simonides,  however,  tells  us,  that 
it  was  not  a  white  sail  which  iEgeus  gave,  but  a  scarlet  one, 
dyed  with  the  juice  of  the  flower  of  a  very  flourishing  holm 
oak,*  and  that  this  was  to  be  the  signal  that  all  was  well.  He 
adds,  that  Phereclus,  the  son  of  Amarsyas,  was  pilot  of  the 
ship;  but  Philochorus  says,  that  Theseus  had  a  pilot  sent  him 
by  Sciras,  from  Salamis,  named  Nausitheus,  and  one  Phseax 
to  be  at  the  prow,  because  as  yet  the  Athenians  had  not  applied 
themselves  to  navigation;!  and  that  Sciras  did  this,  because 
one  of  the  young  men,  named  Menesthes,  was  his  daughters 
son.  This  is  confirmed  by  the  monuments  of  Nausitheus  and 
Phaeax,  built  by  Theseus,  at  Phalerum,  near  the  temple  of 
Sciron;  and  the  feast  called  Cybernesia,  or  the  Pilot’s  Feast, 
is  said  to  be  kept  in  honour  of  them. 

When  the  lots  where  cast,  Theseus  taking  with  him,  out  of 
the  Prytaneum,  those  upon  whom  they  fell,  went  to  the  Del¬ 
phi  nian  temple,  and  made  an  offering  to  Apollo  for  them.  This 
offering  was  a  brancn  of  consecrated  olive,  bound  about  with 

*  It  is  not  the  flower,  but  the  fruit  of  the  ilex,  full  of  little  worms  which 
the  Arabians  call  Kermes,  from  which  a  scarlet  (lye  is  procured. 

f  The  Athenians,  according*  to  Homer,  sent  fifty  ships  to  Troy;  but  those 
were  only  transport  ships.  Thucydides  assures  us,  that  they  did  not  begin 
to  make  any  figure  at  sea  till  ten  or  twelve  years  after  the  battle  of  Mara* 
then,  near  seven  hundred  years  after  the  siege  cf  Troy. 


10 


THESEUS. 


white  wool.  Having  paid  his  devotions,  he  embarked  on  the 
sixth  of  April;  at  which  time  they  still  sent  the  virgins  to  Del¬ 
phinium  to  propitiate  the  god.  It  was  reported  that  the  ora 
cle  at  Delphi  commanded  him  to  take  Venus  for  his  guide,  and 
entreat  her  to  be  his  companion  in  the  voyage;  and  when  he 
sacrificed  to  her  a  she-goat  on  the  sea-shore,  its  sex  was  im¬ 
mediately  changed;  hence  the  goddess  had  the  name  of  Epi- 
‘a. 


When  he  arrived  in  Crete,  according  to  most  historians  and 
poets,  Ariadne,  falling  in  love  with  him,  gave  him  a  clue  of 
thread,  and  instructed  him  how  to  pass  with  it  through  the  in¬ 
tricacies  of  the  labyrinth.  Thus  assisted,  he  killed  the  Mi* 
notaur,  and  then  set  sail,  carrying  off  Ariadne,  together  with 
the  young  men;  Pherecydes  says,  that  Theseus  broke  up  the 
keels  of  the  Cretan  ships,  to  prevent  their  pursuit.  But,  as 
Demon  has  it,  he  killed  Taurus,  Minos’s  commander,  who  en¬ 
gaged  him  in  the  harbour,  just  as  he  was  ready  to  sail  out 
Again,  according  to  Philochorus,  when  Minos  celebrated  the 
games  in  honour  of  his  son,  it  was  believed  that  Taurus  would 
bear  away  the  prizes  in  them  as  formerly;  and  every  one 
grudged  him  that  honour;  for  his  excessive  power  and  haugh¬ 
ty  behaviour  were  intolerable;  and,  besides,  he  was  accused 
of  too  great  a  familiarity  with  Pasiphae;  therefore,  when  The¬ 
seus  desired  the  combat,  Minos  permitted  it.  In  Crete  it  was 
the  custom  for  the  women,  as  well  as  the  men,  to  see  the 
games;  and  Ariadne,  being  present,  was  struck  with  the  per 
son  of  Theseus,  and  with  his  superior  vigour  and  address  in 
the  wrestling-ring.  Minos  too  was  greatly  delighted,  espe¬ 
cially  when  he  saw  Taurus  vanquished  and  disgraced,  and 
this  induced  him  to  give  up  the  young  men  to  Theseus,  and  to 
remit  the  tribute.  Clidemus,  beginning  higher,  gives  a  prolix 
account  of  these  matters,  according  to  his  manner.  There  was, 
it  seems,  a  decree  throughout  all  Greece,  that  no  vessel  should 
sail  with  more  than  five  hands,  except  the  Argo  commanded 
by  Jason,  who  was  appointed  to  clear  the  sea  of  pirates.  But 
when  Daedalus  escaped  by  sea  to  Athens,  Minos,  pursuing 
him  with  his  men  of  war,  contrary  to  the  decree,  was  driven 
by  a  storm  to  Sicily,  and  there  ended  his  life.  And  when 
Deucalion,  his  successor,  pursuing  his  father’s  quarrels  with 
the  Athenians,  demanded  that  they  should  deliver  up  Daeda¬ 
lus,  and  threatened,  if  they  did  not,  to  make  way  with  the 
hostages  that  Minos  had  received,  Theseus  gave  him  a  mild 
answer,  alleging  that  Daedalus  was  his  relation,  nearly  allied 
in  blood,  being  son  to  Merope,  the  daughter  of  Ereetheus 
But  privately  he  prepared  a  fleet,  part  of  it  among  the  Thy- 
maetadae,  at  a  distance  from  any  public  road,  and  part  under 
the  direction  of  Pittheus,  at  Troezene.  When  it  was  readv*  he 


THESEUS. 


4! 


set  sail,  taking  Bsedalus,  and  the  rest  of  the  fugitives  fro  in 
Crete  for  his  guide.  The  Cretans  receiving  no  information  ot 
the  matter,  and  when  they  saw  his  fleet,  taking  them  for  friends 
he  easily  gained  the  harbour,  and  making  a  descent,  proceed 
ed  immediately  to  Gnossus.  There  he  engaged  with  Deucalion 
and  his  guards,  before  the  gates  of  the  labyrinth,  and  slew 
theix-  The  government  by  this  means  falling  to  Ariadne 
he  entered  into  an  agreement  with  her,  by  which  he  received 
the  young  captives,  and  made  a  perpetual  league  between  the 
Athenians  and  the  Cretans,  both  sides  swearing  to  proceed  to 
hostilities  no  more. 

There  are  many  other  reports  about  these  things,  and  as 
many  concerning  Ariadne,  but  none  of  any  certainty.  Foi 
some  say,  that  being  deserted  by  Theseus  she  hanged  herself, 
others,  that  she  was  carried  by  the  mariners  to  Naxos,  and 
there  married  Onarus,  the  priest  of  Bacchus,  Theseus  having 
left  her  for  another  mistress: — 

For  JEgle’s  charms  had  pierc’d  the  hero’s  heart. 

Whereas  the  Megarensian  tells  us,  that  Pisistratus  struck  the 
line  out  of  Hesiod;  as,  on  the  contrary,  to  gratify  the  Athe¬ 
nians,  he  added  this  other  to  Homer’s  description  of  the  state 
of  the  dead :  — 

The  God-like  Theseus  and  the  great  Pirithous. 

Some  say  Ariadne  had  two  sons  by  Theseus,  CEnopion  and 
Staphylus.  With  these  agrees  Ion  of  Chios,  who  says  of  his 
native  city,  that  it  was  built  by  CEnopion,  the  son  of  Theseus. 

But  the  most  striking  passages  of  the  poets,  relative  to  those 
things,  are  in  every  body’s  mouth.  Something  more  particu¬ 
lar  is  delivered  by  Paeon  the  Amathusian.  He  relates,  that 
Theseus,  being  driven  by  a  storm  to  Cyprus;  and  having  with 
him  Ariadne,  who  was  big  with  child,  and  extremely  discom 

Iiosed  with  the  agitation  of  the  sea,  he  set  her  on  shore,  and 
eft  her  alone,  while  he  returned  to  take  care  of  the  ship;  but 
by  a  violent  wind  was  forced  out  again  to  sea;  that  the  women 
of  the  country  received  Ariadne  kindly,  consoled  her  under 
her  loss,  and  brought  her  feigned  letters  as  from  Theseus;  that 
they  attended  and  assisted  her,  when  she  fell  in  labour;  and, 
as  she  died  in  child-bed,  paid  her  the  funeral  honours;  that 
Theseus,  on  his  return,  greatly  afflicted  at  the  news,  left  mo¬ 
ney  with  the  inhabitants,  ordering  them  to  pay  divine  honours 
to  Ariadne;  and  that  he  caused  two  little  statues  of  her  to  be 
made,  one  of  silver,  and  the  other  of  brass;  that  they  cele¬ 
brated  her  festival  on  the  second  of  September,  when  a  young 
man  lies  down,  and  imitates  the  cries  and  gesture  of  a  woman 
Vol.  i. - H 


42 


THESEUS. 


ill  travail;  and  that  the  Amathusians  call  the  grove  in  which 
they  show  her  tomb,  the  grove  of  Venus  Ariadne. 

Some  of  the  Naxian  writers  relate,  that  there  were  two  Mi- 
noses,  and  two  Ariadnes;  one  of  which  was  married  to  Bac¬ 
chus  in  Naxos,  and  had  a  son  named  Staphylus;  the  other,  of 
a  later  age,  being  carried  off  by  Theseus,  and  afterwards  de 
serted,  came  to  Naxos,  with  her  nurse  Corcyne,  whose  tomb 
is  still  shown.  That  this  Ariadne  died  there,  and  had  differ¬ 
ent  honours  paid  her  from  the  former;  for  the  feasts  of  one 
were  celebrated  with  mirth  and  revels,  while  the  sacrifices  of 
the  other  were  mixed  with  sorrow  and  mourning.  * 

Theseus,  in  his  return  from  Crete,  put  in  at  Delos  ;t  and 
having  sacrificed  to  Apollo,  and  dedicated  a  statue  of  Venus, 
which  he  received  from  Ariadne,  he  joined  with  the  young 
men  in  a  dance,  which  the  Delians  are  said  to  practise  at  this 
day.  It  consists  in  an  imitation  of  the  mazes  and  outlets  of 
the  labyrinth,  and,  with  various  involutions  and  evolutions,  is 
performed  in  regular  time.  This  kind  of  dance,  as  Dicaear- 
chus  informs  us,  is  called  by  the  Delians  the  Crane.  J  He 
danced  it  round  the  altar  Keraton,  which  was  built  entirely  of 
the  left-side  horns  of  beasts.  He  is  also  said  to  have  insti¬ 
tuted  games  in  Delos,  where  he  began  the  custom  of  giving  a 
palm  to  the  victors. 

When  they  drew  near  to  Attica,  both  Theseus  and  the  pilot 
were  so  transported  with  joy,  that  they  forgot  to  hoist  the  sail 
which  was  to  be  the  signal  to  iEgeus  of  their  safety;  who, 
therefore,  in  despair,  threw  himself  from  the  rock,  and  was 
dashed  to  pieces.  Theseus  disembarked,  and  performed  those 
sacrifices  to  the  gods  which  he  had  vowed  at  Phalerum,  when 
he  set  sail,  and  sent  a  herald  to  the  city,  with  an  account  of  his 
safe  return.  The  messenger  met  with  numbers,  lamenting 
the  fate  of  the  king,  and  others  rejoicing,  as  it  was  natural  to 
expect,  at  the  return  of  Theseus,  welcoming  him  with  the 
greatest  kindness,  and  ready  to  crown  him  with  flowers  for 
his  good  news.  He  received  the  chaplets,  and  twined  them 
round  his  herald’s  staff.  Returning  to  the  sea-shore,  and  find¬ 
ing  that  Theseus  had  not  yet  finished  his  libations,  he  stopped 
without,  not  choosing  to  disturb  the  sacrifice.  When  the  li¬ 
bations  were  over,  he  announced  the  death  of  Aegeus.  Upon 
this,  they  hastened,  with  sorrow  and  tumultuous  lamenta- 

*  The  feasts  of  Ariadne,  the  wife  of  Bacchus,  were  celebrated  with  joy,  lu 
denote  that  she  was  become  a  divinity;  those  of  the  other  Ariadne  signified 
that  she  fell  like  a  mere  mortal. 

j-  Hence  came  the  custom  of  sending*  annually  a  deputation  from  Athens  t« 
Delos,  to  sacrifice  to  Apollo. 

t  This  dance,  Callimachus  tells  us,  was  a  particular  one;  and  probably  it 
was  called  the  Crane,  because  cranes  commonly  fly  in  the  figure  of  a  circle. 


THESEUS. 


43 


faons,  to  the  city.  Hence  they  tell  us,  it  is,  that,  in  the  Os* 
chophoria,  or  Feast  of  Boughs,  to  this  day  the  herald  is  not 
crowned,  but  his  staff;  and  those  who  are  present  at  the  liba¬ 
tions  cry  out,  Eleleu!  Iou ,  Iou /*  The  former  is  the  exclamation 
of  haste  and  triumph,  and  the  latter  of  trouble  and  confusion. 
Theseus,  having  buried  his  father,  paid  his  vows  to  Apollo  on 
the  seventh  of  October;  for  on  that  day  they  arrived  safe  at 
Athens.  The  boiling  of  all  sorts  of  pulse  at  that  time  is  said 
to  take  its  rise  from  their  mixing  the  remains  of  their  provi¬ 
sions,  when  they  found  themselves  safe  ashore,  boiling  them 
in  one  pot,  and  feasting  upon  them  all  together.  In  that  feast 
they  also  carry  a  branch  bound  about  with  wool,  such  as  they 
then  made  use  of  in  their  supplications,  which  they  call  Eire- 
sione,  laden  with  all  sorts  of  fruits;  and,  to  signify  the  ceas¬ 
ing  of  scarcity  at  that  time,  they  sing  this  strain: — 

The  golden  ear,  th’  ambrosial  hive. 

In  fair  Eiresione  thrive. 

See  the  juicy  figs  appear! 

Olives  crown  the  wealthy  year! 

See  the  cluster-bending  vine! 

See,  and  drink,  and  drop  supine! 

Some  pretend  that  this  ceremony  is  retained  in  memory  of 
the  Heraclidae,t  who  were  entertained  in  that  manner  by  the 
Athenians;  but  the  greater  part  relate  it  as  above  delivered. 

The  vessel  in  which  Theseus  sailed,  and  returned  safe,  with 
those  young  men,  went  with  thirty  oars.  It  was  preserved 
by  the  Athenians  to  the  times  of  Demetrius  Phalereus;J  being 
so  pieced  and  new  framed  with  strong  plank,  that  it  afforded 
an  example  to  the  philosophers,  in  their  disputations  concern 
ing  the  identity  of  things  that  are  changed  by  growth;  som 
contending  that  it  was  the  same,  and  others  that  it  was  not. 

The  feast  called  Oschophoria,§  which  the  Athenians  still 

*  FAeleu  denotes  the  joy  and  precipitation  with  which  Theseus  marched 
towards  Athens;  and  Iou,  iou,  his  sorrow  for  the  death  of  his  father. 

f  The  descendants  of  Hercules,  being  driven  out  of  Peloponnesus  and  all 
Greece,  applied  to  the  Athenians  for  their  protection,  which  was  granted; 
and  as  they  went  as  suppliants,  they  went  with  branches  in  their  hands. 
Tliis  subject  is  treated  by  Euripides  in  his  Heraclidae. 

t  That  is  near  1000  years;  for  Theseus  returned  from  Crete  about  the  year 
before  Christ  1235,  and  Callimachus,  who  was  contemporary  with  Deme¬ 
trius,  and  who  tells  us  the  Athenians  continued  to  send  tliis  ship  to  Delos 
in  his  time,  flourished  about  the  year  before  Christ  280. 

.  §  This  ceremony  was  performed  in  the  following  manner: — They  made 
choice  of  a  certain  number  of  youths  of  the  most  noble  families  in  each  tribe, 
whose  fathers  and  mothers  both  were  living.  They  bore  vine-branches  in 
their  hands,  with  grapes  upon  them,  and  ran  from  the  temple  of  Bacchus  to 
that  of  Minerva  Sciradia,  which  was  near  the  Phalerean  gate.  He  that  a*'- 


14 


THESEUS. 


;elebrate,  was  then  first  instituted  by  Theseus.  For  he  did 
not  take  with  him  all  the  virgins  upon  whom  the  lot  had  fall¬ 
en,  but  selected  two  young  men  ot  his  acquaintance  who  had 
feminine  and  florid  aspects,  but  were  not  wanting  in  spirit  and 
presence  of  mind.  These,  by  warm  bathing,  and  keeping 
them  out  of  the  sun,  by  providing  unguents  for  their  hair  and 
complexions,  and  every  thing  necessary  for  their  dress,  by 
forming  their  voice,  their  manner,  and  their  step,  he  so  effec¬ 
tually  altered,  that  they  passed  among  the  virgins  designed 
for  Crete,  and  no  one  could  discern  the  difference. 

At  his  return,  he  walked  in  procession  with  the  same  young 
men  dressed  in  the  manner  of  those  who  now  carry  the  branch¬ 
es.  These  arc  carried  in  honour  of  Bacchus  and  Ariadne, 
on  account  of  the  story  before  related;  or  rather  because  they 
returned  at  the  time  of  gathering  ripe  fruits.  The  Deipno- 
phorae,  (women  who  carry  the  provisions,)  bear  a  part  in  the 
solemnity,  and  have  a  share  in  the  sacrifice,  to  represent  the 
mothers  of  those  upon  whom  the  lots  fell,  who  brought  their 
children  provisions  for  the  voyage.  Fables  and  tales  are  the 
chief  discourse,  because  the  women  then  told  their  children 
stories  to  comfort  them  and  keep  up  their  spirits.  These  par¬ 
ticulars  are  taken  from  the  history  of  Demon.  There  was  a 
place  consecrated,  and  a  temple  erected  to  Theseus;  and  those 
families  which  would  have  been  liable  to  the  tribute,  in  case 
it  had  continued,  were  obliged  to  pay  a  tax  to  the  temple  for 
sacrifices.  These  were  committed  to  the  care  of  the  Phy- 
talidse,  Theseus  doing  them  that  honour  in  recompense  of 
their  hospitality. 

After  the  death  of  iEgeus,  he  undertook  and  effected  a 
prodigious  work.  He  settled  all  the  inhabitants  of  Attica  in 
Athens,  and  made  them  one  people  in  one  city,  who  before 
were  scattered  up  and  down,  and  could  with  difficulty  be  as¬ 
sembled  on  any  pressing  occasion  for  the  public  good.  Nay, 
often  such  differences  had  happened  between  them  as  ended  in 
bloodshed.  The  method  he  took  was  to  apply  to  them  in  par¬ 
ticular  by  their  tribes  and  families.  Private  persons  and  the 

1)oor  easily  listened  to  his  summons.  To  the  rich  and  great 
le  represented  the  advantage  of  a  government  without  a  king, 
where  the  chief  power  should  be  in  the  people,  while  he  him¬ 
self  only  desired  to  command  in  war,  and  to  be  the  guardian 

rived  there  first  drank  off  a  cup  of  wine  mingled  with  honey,  cheese,  meal, 
and  oil.  They  were  followed  by  a  chorus  conducted  by  two  \  oung  men 
dressed  in  women’s  apparel,  the  chorus  singing  a  song  in  praise  of  those 
young  men.  Certain  women,  with  baskets  on  their  heads,  attended  them, 
and  were  chosen  for  that  office  from  among  the  most  wealthy  of  the  citizens. 
The  whole  procession  was  headed  by  a  herald,  bearing  a  staff  encircled 
with  b( uighs. 


THESEUS. 


4£ 


of  the  laws;  in  all  the  rest  every  one  would  be  upon  an  equal 
fooling.  Part  of  them  hearkened  to  his  persuasions;  and 
others,  fearing  his  power,  which  was  already  very  great,  as 
well  as  his  enterprising  spirit,  chose  rather  to  be  persuaded, 
than  to  be  forced  to  submit.  Dissolving,  therefore,  the  cor¬ 
porations,  the  councils,  and  courts  in  each  particular  town,  he 
built  one  common  Prytaneum  and  court-hall,  where  it  stands 
to  this  day.  The  citadel,  with  its  dependencies,  and  the  city, 
or  the  old  and  new  town,  he  united  under  the  common  name 
of  Athens,  and  instituted  the  Panathensea  as  a  common  sacri¬ 
fice.*  He  appointed  also  the  Metoecia,  or  feast  of  Migration,! 
and  fixed  it  to  the  sixteenth  of  July,  and  so  it  still  continues. 
Giving  up  the  kingly  power,  as  he  had  promised,  he  settled 
the  commonwealth  under  the  auspices  of  the  gods;  for  he  con¬ 
sulted  the  Oracle  at  Delphi  concerning  his  new  government, 
•and  received  this  answer: — 

From  royal  stems  thy  honour,  Theseus  springs; 

By  Jove  beloved,  the  sire  supreme  of  kings. 

See  rising1  towns,  see  wide-extended  state's. 

On  thee  dependent,  ask  their  future  fates! 

Hence,  hence  with  fear!  Thy  favoured  bark  shall  ride 

Safe  o’er  the  surges  of  the  foamy  tide!f 

With  this  agrees  the  Sibyl’s  prophecy,  which,  we  are  told, 
she  delivered  long  after,  concerning  Athens.— 

The  bladder  may  be  dipp’d  but  neve?  drown’d. 

Desiring  yet  farther  to  enlarge  Lie  city,  he  invited  all  stran¬ 
gers  to  equal  privileges  in  it;  and  the  words  still  in  use, 

*  The  Athenxa  were  celebrated  before,  in  honour  of  the  goddess  Minerva, 
but  as  that  was  a  feast  peculiar  to  the  city  of  Athens,  Theseus  enlarged  it, 
and  made  it  common  to  all  the  inhabitants  of  Attica;  and  therefore  it  was 
called  Panathenaea.  There  were  the  greater  and  the  less  Panathenaca. 
The  less  were  kept  annually,  and  the  greater  every  fifth  year.  In  the  lat¬ 
ter,  they  carried,  in  procession  the  mysterious  peplum ,  or  veil  of  Minerva; 
on  which  were  embroidered  the  victory  of  the  gods  over  the  giants,  and  the 
most  remarkable  achievements  of  their  heroes. 

f  In  memory  of  their  quitting  the  boroughs,  and  uniting  in  one  city. 

On  this  occasion,  he  likewise  instituted,  or  at  least  restored,  the  famous 
Isthmian  games,  in  honour  of  Neptune.  All  these  were  chiefly  designed  to 
draw  a  concourse  of  strangers;  and,  as  a  farther  encouragement  for  them  to 
corner  and  settle  in  Athens,  he  gave  them  the  privileges  of  natives. 

+  In  the  original  it  is,  “  Safe  like  a  bladder,”  &c.  When  Sylla  had  taken 
Athens,  and  exercised  all  manner  of  cruelties  there,  some  Athenians  went 
to  Delphi,  to  inquire  of  the  oracle,  whether  the  last  hour  of  their  city  was 
come*  and  the  priestess,  according  to  Pausanias,  made  answer,  Tot  no  to 
a*X0V  s>(0V'Tt>  That  which  belongs  to  the  bladder  now  has  an  end;  plainly  refer 
ring  to  the  old  prophecy  here  delivered. 


THESEUS. 


46 

“  Come  hither,  all  ye  people,”  are  said  to  be  the  begin  ring 
of  a  proclamation,  which  Theseus  ordered  to  be  made  when 
he  composed  a  commonwealth,  as  it  were,  of  all  nations.  Yet 
he  left  it  not  in  the  confusion  and  disorder  likely  to  ensue 
from  the  confluence  and  strange  mixture  of  people,  but  dis¬ 
tinguished  them  into  noblemen,  husbandmen,  and  mechanics. 
The  nobility  were  to  have  the  care  of  religion,  to  supply  the 
city  with  magistrates,  to  explain  the  laws,  and  to  interpret 
whatever  related  to  the  worship  of  the  gods.  As  to  the  rest, 
he  balanced  the  citizens  against  each  other  as  nearly  as  possi¬ 
ble;  the  nobles  excelling  in  dignity,  the  husbandmen  in  use¬ 
fulness,  and  the  artificers  in  number.  It  appears  from  Aris¬ 
totle,  that  Theseus  was  the  first  who  inclined  to  a  democracy, 
and  gave  up  the  regal  power;  and  Homer  also  seerps  to  bear 
witness  to  the  same  in  his  catalogue  of  ships,  where  he  gives 
the  name  of  People  to  the  Athenians  only.  To  his  money  he 
gave  the  impression  of  an  ox,  either  on  account  of  the  Mara 
thonian  bull,  or  because  of  Minos’s  general  Taurus,  or  because 
he  would  encourage  the  citizens  in  agriculture.  Hence  came 
the  expression  of  a  thing  being  worth  ten  or  a  hundred  oxen. 
Having  also  made  a  secure  acquisition  of  the  country  about 
Megara  to  the  territory  of  Athens,  he  set  up  the  famed  pillar 
in  the  Isthmus,*  and  inscribed  it  with  two  verses  to  distin¬ 
guish  the  boundaries.  That  on  the  east  side  ran  thus: — 

This  is  not  Peloponnesus,  but  Ionia; 
and  that  on  the  west  was: 

This  is  Peloponnesus,  not  Ionia. 

He  likewise  instituted  games,  in  imitation  of  Hercules;  being 
ambitious,  that  as  the  Greeks,  in  pursuance  of  that  hero’s  ap¬ 
pointment,  celebrated  the  Olympic  games  in  honour  of  Jupi¬ 
ter,  so  they  should  celebrate  the  Isthmian  in  honour  of  Nep¬ 
tune;  for  the  rites  performed  there  before,  in  memory  of  Me- 
licertes,  were  observed  in  the  night,  and  had  more  the  air  of 
mysteries,  than  of  a  public  spectacle  and  assembly.  But  some 
say  the  Isthmian  games  were  dedicated  to  Sciron,  Theseus  in¬ 
clining  to  expiate  his  untimely  fate,  by  reason  of  their  being 
so  nearly  related;  for  Sciron  was  the  son  of  Canethus  and 
Henioche,  the  daughter  of  Pittheus.  Others  will  have  it,  that 

*  This  pillar  was  erected  by  the  common  consent  of  the  Ionians  and  Po» 
ioponnesb  ns,  to  put  an  end  to  the  disputes  about  their  boundaries;  and  it 
continued  to  the  reign  of  Codrus,  during  which  it  was  demolished  by  the 
Heraclidx,  who  had  made  themselves  masters  of  the  territory  of  Megara, 
wliich  thereby  passed  fi  )m  the  Ionians  to  the  Dorians. — Strabo ,  lib.  ix. 


THESEUS. 


47 


Sinnis  was  their  son,  and  that  to  him,  and  not  to  Sciion,  the 
games  were  dedicated.  He  made  an  agreement  too  with  the 
Corinthians,  that  they  should  give  the  place  of  honour  to  the 
Athenians  who  came  to  the  Isthmian  games,  as  far  as  the 
ground  could  be  covered  with  the  sail  of  the  public  ship  that 
brought  them,  when  stretched  to  its  full  extent.  This  par¬ 
ticular  we  learn  from  Hellanicus,  and  Andron  of  Halicarnas¬ 
sus. 

Philochorus  and  some  others  relate,  that  he  sailed,  in  com¬ 
pany  with  Hercules,  into  the  Euxine  sea,  to  carry  on  war  with 
the  Amazons,*  and  that  he  received  Antiopet  as  the  reward 
of  his  valour;  but  the  greater  number,  among  whom  are 
Pherecydes,  Hellanicus,  and  Herodotus,  tell  us,  that  Theseus 
made  that  voyage,  with  his  own  fleet  only,  sometime  after 
Hercules,  and  took  that  Amazon  captive,  which  is  indeed  the 
more  probable  account;  for  we  .do  not  read  that  any  other  of 
his  fellow-warriors  made  any  Amazon  prisoner.  But  Bion 
says,  he  took  and  carried  her  off  by  a  stratagem.  The  Ama¬ 
zons,  being  naturally  lovers  of  men,  were  so  far  from  avoiding 
Theseus,  when  he  touched  upon  their  coasts,  that  they  sent 
him  presents.  Theseus  invited  Antiope,  who  brought  them 
into  his  ship,  and  as  soon  as  she  was  aboard,  set  sail.  But  the 
account  of  one  Menecrates,  who  published  a  history  of  Nice, 
in  Bithynia,  is,  that  Theseus,  having  Antiope  aboard  his  ves¬ 
sel  remained  in  those  parts  some  time;  and  that  he  was  attend¬ 
ed  in  that  expedition  by  three  young  men  of  Athens,  who 
were  brothers,  Euneos,  Thoas,  and  Soloon.  The  last  of  these, 
unknown  to  the  rest,  fell  in  love  with  Antiope,  and  commu¬ 
nicated  his  passion  to  one  of  his  companions,  who  applied  to 
Antiope  about  the  affair.  She  firmly  rejected  his  pretensions, 
but  treated  him  with  civility,  and  prudently  concealed  the 
matter  from  Theseus.  But  Soloon,  in  despair,  having  leaped 
into  a  river  and  drowned  himself,  Theseus,  then  sensible  of 
the  cause,  and  the  young  man’s  passion,  lamented  his  fate,  and, 
in  his  sorrow,  recollected  an  oracle  which  he  had  formerly 
received  at  Delphi.  The  priestess  had  ordered,  that  when,  in 
some  foreign  country,  he  should  labour  under  the  greatest  af¬ 
fliction,  he  should  build  a  city  there,  and  leave  some  of  his 
followers  to  govern  it  Hence  he  called  the  city  which  he 
Duilt  Pythopolis,  after  the  Pythian  god,  and  the  neighbouring 
river  Soloon,  in  honour  of  the  young  man.  He  left  the  two 

*  Nothing*  can  be  more  fabulous  than  the  whole  history  flf  the  Amazons. 
Strabo  observes,  that  the  most  credible  of  Alexander’s  historians  have  not 
so  much  as  mentioned  them:  and,  indeed,  if  they  were  a  Scythian  nation, 
how  came  they  all  to  have  Greek  names. 

t  Justin  says  Hercules  g*ave  Hippolyte  to  Theseus,  and  kept  Antiope  feff 
himself. 


48 


1'HESEUS. 


surviving  brothers  to  govern  it,  and  give  it  laws;  and  along 
with  them  Hermus,  who  was  of  one  of  the  best  families  in 
Athens.  From  him  the  inhabitants  of  Pythopolis  call  a  cer¬ 
tain  place  in  their  city  Hermus’s  house  ( Hermou  oikia ,)  and  by 
misplacing  an  accent,  transfer  the  honour  from  the  hero  to  the 
god  Mercury. 

Hence  the  war  with  the  Amazons  took  its  rise.  And  i 
appears  to  have  been  no  slight  or  womanish  enterprise;  for 
they  could  not  have  encamped  in  the  town,  or  joined  battle  on 
the  ground  about  the  Pynx*  and  the  Museum,!  or  fallen  in  so 
intrepid  a  manner  upon  the  city  of  Athens,  unless  they  had 
first  reduced  the  country  about  it.  It  is  difficult,  indeed,  to 
believe  (though  Hellanicus  has  related  it)  that  they  crossed 
the  Cimmerian  Bosphorus  upon  the  ice;  but  that  they  encamp¬ 
ed  almost  in  the  heart  of  the  city  is  confirmed  by  the  names  of 
places,  and  by  the  tombs  of  those  that  fell. 

There  was  a  long  pause  and  delay  before  either  army  would 
begin  the  attack.  At  last,  Theseus,  by  the  direction  of  some 
oracle,  offered  a  sacrifice  to  Fear,J  and  after  that  immediately 
engaged.  The  battle  was  fought  in  the  month  Boedromion 
(September),  the  day  on  which  the  Athenians  still  celebrate 
the  feast  called  Boedromia.  Clidemus,  who  is  willing  to  be 
very  particular,  writes,  that  the  left  wing  of  the  Amazons 
moved  towards  what  is  now  called  the  Amazonium;  and  that 
the  right  extended  as  far  as  the  Pynx,  near  Chrysa;  that  the 
Athenians  first  engaged  with  the  left  wing  of  the  Amazons, 
falling  upon  them  from  the  Museum;  and  that  the  tombs  of 
those  that  fell  in  the  battle  are  in  the  street  which  leads  to  the 
gate  called  Piraica,  which  is  by  the  monument  erected  in  ho¬ 
nour  of  Chalcodon,  where  the  Athenians  were  routed  by  the 
Amazons,  and  fled  as  far  as  the  temple  of  the  Furies;  but  that 
the  left  wing  of  the  Athenians,  which  charged  from  the  Pal¬ 
ladium,  Ardettus,  and  Lyceum,  drove  the  right  wing  of  the 
enemy  to  their  camp,  and  slew  many  of  them;  that  after  four 
months,  a  peace  was  concluded  by  means  of  Hippolyte;  for 
so  this  author  calls  the  Amazon  that  attended  with  Theseus, 
not  Antiope.  But  some  say  this  heroine  fell  fighting  by  The¬ 
seus’  side,  being  pierced  with  a  dart  by  Molpadia,  and  that  a 
pillar,  by  the  temple  of  the  Olympian  Earth, §  was  setup  over 

*  The  Pynx  was  a  place  (near  the  citadel)  where  the  people  of  Athens 
used  to  assemble,  and  where  the  orators  spoke  to  them  about  public  affairs. 

•(■The  Museum  was  upon  a  little  hill  over  against  the  citadel,  and  proba¬ 
bly  so  called  from  a  temple  of  the  Muses  there. 

t  The  heathens  considered  not  only  the  passions,  but  even  distempers, 
storms,  and  tempests,  as  divinities,  and  worshipped  them,  that  they  might 
dn  them  to  harm. 

By  tliis  is  meant  the  moon,  so  called  (as  Plutarch  supposes,  in  his  Tre* 


THESEUS. 


45 


her  grave.  Ncr  is  it  to  be  wondered,  that,  in  the  account  of 
th  ngs  so  very  ancient,  history  should  be  thus  uncertain,  since 
Liey  tell  us  that  some  Amazons,  wounded  by  Antiope,  were 
privately  sent  to  Chalcis  to  be  cured,  and  that  some  were 
buried  there,  at  a  place  now  called  Amazonium.  But  that 
the  war  was  ended  by  a  league,  we  may  assuredly  gather  from 
a  place  called  Horcomosium,  near  the  temple  of  Theseus, 
where  it  was  sworn  to,  as  well  as  from  an  ancient  sacrifice, 
which  is  offered  to  the  Amazons  the  day  before  the  feast  of 
Theseus.  The  people  of  Megara,  too,  show  a  place,  in  the 
figure  of  a  lozenge,  where  some  Amazons  were  buried,  as  you 
go  from  the  market-place  to  the  place  called  Rhus.  Others 
also  are  said  to  have  died  by  Chseronea,  and  to  have  been  bu¬ 
ried  by  the  rivulet,  which,  it  seems,  was  formerly  called 
Thermodon,  but  now  Hsemon;  of  which  I  have  given  a  fur¬ 
ther  account  in  the  life  of  Demosthenes.  It  appears,  likewise, 
that  the  Amazons  traversed  Thessaly,  not  without  opposition; 
for  their  sepulchres  are  shown  to  this  day,  between  Scotus- 
ssea  and  Cynoscephalae. 

This  is  all  that  is  memorable  in  the  story  of  the  Amazons; 
for  as  to  what  the  author  of  the  Theseid  relates,  of  the  Ama¬ 
zons  rising  to  take  vengeance  for  Antiope,  when  Theseus 
quitted  her,  and  married  PhsSdra,  and  of  their  being  slain  by 
Hercules,  it  has  plainly  the  air  of  fable.  Indeed  he  married 
Phaedra  after  the  death  of  Antiope,  having  by  the  Amazon  a 
son  named  Hippolytus,*  or,  according  to  Pindar,  Demophoon. 
As  to  the  calamities  which  befel  Phaedra  and  Hippolytus,  since 

tise  on  the  Cessation  of  Oracles),  because,  like  the  Genii  or  Demons,  she  is 
neither  so  perfect  as  the  gods,  nor  so  imperfect  as  human  kind.  But  as 
some  of  the  philosophers,  we  mean  the  Pythagoreans,  had  astronomy  enough 
afterwards  to  conclude  that  the  sun  is  the  centre  of  this  system,  we  presume 
it  might  occur  to  thinking  men  in  the  more  early  ages,  that  the  moon  was 
an  opaque,  and,  therefore,  probably  a  terrene  body. 

*  Theseus  had  a  son,  by  the  Amazonian  queen,  named  Hippolytus:  having 
soon  after  married  Phaedra,  the  sister  of  Deucalion,  the  son  and  successor 
of  Minos,  by  whom  he  had  two  sons;  he  sent  Hippolytus  to  be  brought  up 
by  his  own  mother  iEthra,  queen  of  Troezene:  but  he  coming  afterwards  to 
be  present  at  some  Athenian  games,  Phaedra  fell  in  love  with  him;  and  hav¬ 
ing  solicited  him  in  vain  to  a  compliance,  in  a  fit  of  resentment,  accused  him 
to  Theseus  of  having  made  an  attempt  upon  her  chastity.  The  fable  says, 
tbit  Theseus  prayed  to  Neptune  to  punish  him  by  some  violent  death.  And 
ill  solemn  execrations,  according  to  the  notions  of  the  heathens,  certainly 
taking  effect,  as  Hippolytus  was  riding  along  the  sea-shore,  Neptune  sent 
two  sea-calves,  who  frightened  the  horses,  overturned  the  chariot,  and  tore 
him  to  pieces.  The  poets  add,  that  the  lustful  queen  hanged  herself  for  grief; 
but  as  for  Hippolytus,  Diana  being  taken  with  his  chastity,  and  pitying  the 
sad  fate  it  had  brought  upon  him,  prevailed  upon  iEsculapius  to  restore  hir* 
to  life  to  be  a  companion  of  her  diversions. 

Vol.  i. - 1  6* 


50 


THESEUS. 


the  histoiians  do  not  differ  from  what  .he  writers  of  tragedy 
have  said  of  them,  we  may  look  upon  them  as  matters  of  fact. 

Some  other  marriages  of  Theseus  are  spoken  of,  but  have 
not  been  represented  on  the  stage,  which  had  neither  an  hon¬ 
ourable  beginning,  nor  a  happy  conclusion.  He  is  said  also 
to  have  forcibly  carried  off  Anaxo  of  Troezene,  and  having 
slain  Sinnis  and  Cercyon,  to  have  committed  rapes  upon  then 
daughters;  to  have  married  Periboea,  the  mother  of  Ajax,  too, 
and  Pheroboea,  and  lope  the  daughter  of  Iphicles.  Besides, 
they  charge  him  with  being  enamoured  of  A^gle,  the  daugh¬ 
ter  of  Panopeus  (as  above  related,  and,  for  her,  leaving  Ari¬ 
adne,  contrary  to  the  rules  both  of  justice  and  honour;  but, 
above  all,  with  the  rape  of  Helen,  which  involved  Attica  in 
war,  and  ended  in  his  banishment  and  death;  of  which  we 
shall  speak  more  at  large  by  and  bye. 

Though  there  were  many  expeditions  undertaken  by  the 
heroes  of  those  times,  Herodotus  thinks  that  Theseus  was  not 
concerned  in  any  of  them,  except  in  assisting  the  Lapithse 
against  the  Centaurs.  Others  write,  that  he  attended  Jason 
to  Colchos,  and  Meleager  in  killing  the  boar;  and  that  hence 
came  the  proverb, — “  Nothing  without  Theseus.”  It  is  al¬ 
lowed,  however,  that  Theseus,  without  any  assistance,  did 
himself  perform  many  great  exploits;  and  that  the  extraordi¬ 
nary  instances  of  his  valour  gave  occasion  to  the  saying, — 
“  This  man  is  another  Hercules.”  Theseus  was  likewise  as¬ 
sisting  to  Adrastus,  in  recovering  the  bodies  of  those  that  fell 
before  Thebes;  not  by  defeating  the  Thebans  in  battle,  as 
Euripides  has  it  in  his  tragedy,  but  by  persuading  them  to  a 
truce:  for  so  most  writers  agree:  and  Philochorus  is  of  opin¬ 
ion,  that  this  was  the  first  truce  ever  known  for  burying  the 
dead.  But  Hercules  was,  indeed,  the  first  who  gave  up  their 
dead  to  the  enemy,  as  we  have  shown  in  his  life.  The  bury- 
ing-place  of  the  common  soldiers  is  to  be  seen  at  Eleutherae, 
and  of  the  officers  at  Eleusis;  in  which  particular  Theseus 
gratified  Adrastus.  iEschylus,  in  whose  tragedy  of  the  Eleu- 
sians  Theseus  is  introduced,  relating  the  matter  as  above, 
contradicts  what  Euripides  has  delivered  in  his  Suppliants. 

The  friendship  between  Theseus  and  Pirithous  is  said  to 
have  commenced  on  this  occasion.  Theseus  being  much  cele¬ 
brated  for  his  strength  and  valour,  Pirithous  was  desirous  to 
prove  it,  and  therefore  drove  away  his  oxen  from  Marathon. 
When  he  heard  that  Theseus  pursued  him  in  arms,  he  did  not 
fly,  but  turned  back  to  meet  him.  But,  as  soon  as  they  beheld 
one  another,  each  was  so  struck  with  admiration  of  the  other’s 
person  and  courage,  that  they  laid  aside  all  thoughts  of  fight¬ 
ing;  and  Pirithous  first  giving  Theseus  his  hand,  bade  him  be 
judge  in  this  cause  himself,  and  he  would  willingly  abide  bv 


rr/ESEus. 


51 


his  sentence.  Theseus,  in  his  turn,  left  the  cause  to  him,  and 
desired  him  to  be  his  friend  and  fellow-warrior.  Then  they 
confirmed  their  friendship  with  an  oath.  Pirithfius  afterwards 
marrying  DeTdamia,*  entreated  Theseus  to  visit  his  country, 
and  to  become  acquainted  with  the  Lapithse.t  He  had  also 
invited  the  Centaurs  to  the  entertainment.  These,  in  their 
cups,  behaving  with  insolence  and  indecency,  and  not  even 
refraining  from  the  women,  the  Lapithae  rose  up  in  their  de¬ 
fence,  killed  some  of  the  Centaurs  upon  the  spot,  and  soon 
after  beating  them  in  a  set  battle,  drove  them  out  of  the  coun¬ 
try  with  the  assistance  of  Theseus.  Herodotus  relates  the 
matter  differently.  He  says,  that  hostilities  being  already 
begun,  Theseus  came  in  aid  to  the  Lapithae,  and  then  had  the 
first  sight  of  Hercules,  having  made  it  his  business  to  find  him 
out  at  Trachin,  where  he  reposed  himself  after  all  his  wander¬ 
ings  and  labours;  and  that  this  interview  passed  in  marks  of 
great  respect,  civility,  and  mutual  compliments.  But  we  are 
rather  to  follow  those  historians,  who  write  that  they  had 
very  frequent  interviews;  and  that,  by  means  of  Theseus, 
Hercules  was  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  Ceres,  having 
first  obtained  lustration,  as  he  desired,  on  account  of  several 
involuntary  pollutions. 

Theseus  was  now  fifty  years  old,  according  to  Hellanicus, 
when  he  was  concerned  in  the  rape  of  Helen,  J  who  had  not 
yet  arrived  at  years  of  maturity.  Some  writers,  thinking  this 
one  of  the  heaviest  charges  against  him,  endeavour  to  correct 
it  by  saying  that  it  was  not  Theseus  that  carried  off  Helen, 
but  Idas  and  Lynceus,  who  committed  her  to  his  care,  and 
that  therefore  he  refused  to  give  her  up,  when  demanded  by 
Castor  and  Pollux;  or  rather,  that  she  was  delivered  to  him 
by  Tyndarus  himself,  to  keep  her  from  Enarsphorus,  the  son 
of  Hippocoon,  who  endeavoured  to  possess  himself  by  vio¬ 
lence  of  Helen,  that  was  yet  but  a  child.  But  what  authors 
generally  agree  in,  as  most  probable,  is  as  follows: — The  two 
friends  went  together  to  Sparta,  and  having  seen  the  girl  danc¬ 
ing  in  the  temple  of  Diana  Orthia,  carried  her  off,  and  fled. 
The  pursuers  that  were  sent  after  them  following  no  farther 
than  Tegea,  they  thought  themselves  secure;  and  having  tra 
versed  Peloponnesus,  they  entered  into  an  agreement,  that  he 

*  All  other  writers  call  her  Hippodamia,  except  Propertius,  who  calls  liei 
Ischomache.  She  was  the  daughter  of  Adrastus. 

y  Homer  calls  the  Lapithx  heroes.  The  Centaurs  are  feigned  to  have 
been  half-men  hah-horses,  either  from  their  brutality,  or  because  (if  not  the 
inventors  of  horsemanship,  yet)  they  generally  appeared  on  horseback. 

t  This  princess  was  the  reputed  daughter  of  Jupiter,  by  Leda  the  wife 
of  Tyndarus,  king  of  CEbalia,  in  Peloponnesus*,  and  though  then  but  nine 
vears  old,  was  reckoned  the  greatest  beautv  in  the  world. 


THESEUS. 


S2 


who  should  gain  Helen  by  lot,  should  have  her  to  wile,  hut 
be  obliged  to  assist  in  procuring  a  wife  for  the  other.  In  con¬ 
sequence  of  these  terms,  the  lots  being  cast,  she  fell  to  The¬ 
seus,  who  received  the  virgin,  and  conveyed  her  as  she  was 
not  yet  marriageable,  to  Aphidnae.  Here  he  placed  his  mo¬ 
ther  with  her,  and  committed  them  to  the  care  of  his  friend 
Aphidnus,  charging  him  to  keep  them  in  the  utmost  secrecy 
and  safety;  whilst,  to  pay  his  debt  of  service  to  Pirithous, 
himself  travelled  with  him  into  Epirus,  with  a  view  to  the 
daughter  of  Aidoneus,  king  of  the  Molossians.  This  prince 
named  his  wife  Proserpine,*  his  daughter  Core,  and  his  dog 
Cerberus:  with  this  dog  he  commanded  all  his  daughter’s  suit¬ 
ors  to  fight,  promising  her  to  him  that  should  overcome  him. 
But  understanding  that  Pirithous  came  not  with  an  intention 
to  court  his  daughter,  but  to  carry  her  off  by  force,  he  seized 
both  him  and  his  friend,  destroyed  Pirithous  immediately,  by 
means  of  his  dog,  and  shut  up  Theseus  in  close  prison. 

Mean  time  Menestheus,  the  son  of  Peteus,  grandson  of  Or 
neus,  and  great-grandson  of  Erechtheus,  is  said  to  be  the  first 
of  mankind  that  undertook  to  be  a  demagogue,  and,  by  his 
eloquence,  to  ingratiate  himself  with  the  people.  He  endea¬ 
voured  also  to  exasperate  and  inspire  the  nobility  with  sedition, 
who  had  but  ill  borne  with  Theseus  for  some  time,  reflecting 
that  he  had  deprived  every  person  of  family  of  his  govern¬ 
ment  and  command,  and  shut  them  up  together  in  one  city, 
where  he  used  them  as  his  subjects  and  slaves.  Among  the 
common  people  he  sowed  disturbances,  by  telling  them,  that 
though  they  pleased  themselves  with  the  dream  of  liberty,  in 
fact,  they  were  robbed  of  their  country  and  religion;  and,  in¬ 
stead  of  many  good  and  native  kings,  were  lorded  over  by 
one  man,  who  was  a  new-comer  and  a  stranger.  Whilst  he 
was  thus  busily  employed,  the  war  declared  by  the  Tynda- 
ridae  greatly  helped  forward  the  sedition.  Some  say  plainly, 
they  were  invited  by  Menestheus  to  invade  the  country.  At 
first  they  proceeded  not  in  a  hostile  manner,  only  demanding 
their  sister;  but  the  Athenians  answering,  that  they  neither 
had  her  among  them,  nor  knew  where  she  was  left,  they  be¬ 
gan  their  warlike  operations.  Academus,  however,  finding 
it  out  by  some  means  or  other,  told  them  she  was  concealed 
at  Aphid nae.  Hence,  not  only  the  Tyndaridae  treated  him 
honourably  in  his  life  time,  but  the  Lacedaemonians,  who,  in 

*  Proserpine  and  Core  was  the  same  person,  daughter  to  Aidoneus,  whose 
wife  was  named  Ceres.  Plutarch  himself  tells  us  so  in  his  Morals,  where  he 
adds,  that  by  Proserpine  is  meant  the  Moon,  whom  Pluto,  or  the  God  ot 
Darkness,  sometimes  carries  off.  Indeed,  Core  signifies  nothing*  more  than 
young  woman  or  daughter ;  and  they  mig*ht  say  a  daughter  of  Epirus,  as  we 
say  a  daughter  of  France,  or  of  Spain. 


THESEUS. 


53 


after-times,  often  made  inroads  into  Attica,  and  laid  waste  all 
the  country  besides,  spared  the  Academy  for  his  sake.  But 
Bicaearchus  says,  that  Echedemus  and  Marathus,  two  Arca¬ 
dians,  being  allies  to  the  Tyndaridae  in  that  war,  the  place 
which  now  goes  by  the  name  of  the  Academy,  was  first  called 
Echedemy,  from  one  of  them;  and  that  from  the  other  the 
district  of  Marathon  had  its  name,  because  he  freely  offered 
himself,  in  pursuance  of  some  oracle,  to  be  sacrificed  at  the 
head  of  the  army.  To  Aphidnae  then  they  came,  where  they 
beat  the  enemy  in  a  set  battle,  and  then  took  the  city,  and 
razed  it  to  the  ground.  There,  they  tell  us,  Alycus,  the  son 
of  Sciron,  was  slain,  fighting  for  Castor  and  Pollux;  and  that 
a  certain  place,  within  the  territories  of  Megara,  is  called 
Alycus,  fiom  his  being  buried  there;  and  Hereas  writes,  that 
Alycus  received  his  death  from  Theseus’s  own  hand.  These 
verses  also  are  alleged  as  a  proof  in  point: — 

For  bright-hair’d  Helen  he  was  slain 

By  Theseus,  on  Aphidnse’s  plain. 

But  it  is  not  probable  that  Aphidnae  would  have  been  taken, 
and  his  mother  made  prisoner,  had  Theseus  been  present. 

Aphidnae,  however,  was  taken,  and  Athens  in  danger. 
Menestheus  took  this  opportunity  to  persuade  the  people  to 
admit  the  Tyndaridae  into  the  city,  and  to  treat  them  hospita¬ 
bly,  since,  they  only  levied  war  against  Theseus,  who  began 
with  violence  first,  but  that  they  were  benefactors  and  deliver¬ 
ers  to  the  rest  of  the  Athenians.  Their  behaviour  also  con¬ 
firmed  what  was  said;  for,  though  conquerors,  they  desired 
nothing  but  to  be  admitted  to  the  mysteries,  to  which  they  had 
no  less  claim  than  Hercules,*  since  they  were  equally  allied 
to  the  city.  This  request  was  easily  granted  them,  and  they 
were  adopted  by  Aphidnus,  as  Hercules  was  by  Pylias.  They 
had  also  divine  honours  paid  them,  with  the  title  of  Anakes, 
which  was  given  them,  either  on  account  of  the  truce  (anochc) 
which  they  made,  or  because  of  their  great  care  that  no  one 
should  be  injured,  though  there  were  so  many  troops  in  the 
city;  for  the  phrase  anakos  cchein  signifies  to  keep  or  take  care 
of  any  thing;  and  for  this  reason,  perhaps,  kings  are  called 
Anaktes.  Some  again  say,  they  were  called  Anakes,  because 
of  the  appearance  of  their  stars;  for  the  A  thenians  used  the 
word  anekas  and  anekatken ,  instead  of  ano  and  anothen ,  that  is. 
above  or  on  high. 

*  For  Castor  and  Pollux,  like  him,  were  sons  of  Jupiter,  from  whom  the 
Athenians  too  pretended  to  derive  their  origin.  It  was  necessary,  however, 
that  they  should  be  naturalized  before  they  were  admitted  to  the  mysteries. 

d,  accordingly,  they  were  naturalized  by  adoption. 


64 


THESEUS. 


We  are  tola  that  iEthra,  the  mother  of  Theseus,  who  was 
now  a  prisoner,  was  carried  to  Lacedaemon,  and  from  thence, 
with  Helen,  to  Troy;  and  that  Homer  confirms  it,  when 
speaking  of  those  that  waited  upon  Helen,  he  mentions — 

- The  beauteous  Clymene, 

And  jEthra  bom  of  Pittheus. 

Others  reject  this  verse  as  none  of  Homer’s,  as  they  do  also 
the  story  of  Munychus,  who  is  said  to  have  been  the  fruit  of 
a  secret  commerce  between  Demophoon  and  Loadice,  and 
brought  up  by  iEthra  at  Troy.  But  Ister,  in  the  thirteenth 
book  of  his  history  of  Attica,  gives  an  account  of  iEthra  dif¬ 
ferent  from  all  the  rest.  He  was  informed,  it  seems,  that  after 
the  battle  in  wdiich  Alexander  or  Paris  was  routed  by  Achilles 
and  Patroclus,  in  Thessaly,  near  the  river  Sperchius,  Hector 
took  and  plundered  the  city  of  Troezene,  and  carried  off  iEthra, 
who  had  been  left  there.  But  this  is  highly  improbable. 

It  happened  that  Hercules,  in  passing  through  the  country 
of  the  Molossians,  was  entertained  by  A'idoneus  the  king, 
who  accidentally  made  mention  of  the  bold  attempts  of  These¬ 
us  and  Pirithous,  and  of  the  manner  in  which  he  had  pun¬ 
ished  them,  when  discovered.  Hercules  wTas  much  disturbed 
to  hear  of  the  inglorious  death  of  the  one,  and  the  danger  of 
the  other.  As  to  Pirithous,  he  thought  it  in  vain  to  expostu¬ 
late  about  him;  but  he  begged  to  have  Theseus  released,  and 
A’idoneus  granted  it.  Theseus,  thus  set  at  liberty,  returned 
to  Athens,  where  his  party  wras  not  yet  entirely  suppressed; 
and  whatever  temples  and  groves  the  city  had  assigned  him, 
he  consecrated  them  all,  but  four,  to  Hercules,  and  called 
them  (as  Philochorus  relates),  instead  of  Thesea,  Heraclea. 
But  desiring  to  preside  in  the  commonwealth,  and  direct  it  as 
before,  he  found  himself  encompassed  with  faction  and  sedi¬ 
tion;  for  those  that  were  his  enemies  before  his  departure, 
had  now  added  to  their  hatred  a  contempt  of  his  authority; 
and  he  beheld  the  people  so  generally  corrupted,  that  they 
wanted  to  be  flattered  into  their  duty,  instead  of  silently  exe¬ 
cuting  his  commands.  When  he  attempted  to  reduce  them 
by  force  he  was  overpowered  by  the  prevalence  of  faction; 
and,  in  th3  end,  finding  his  affairs  desperate,  he  privately  sent 
his  children  into  Euboea,  to  Elephenor,  the  son  of  Chalcodon: 
and  himself,  having  uttered  solemn  execrations  against  the 
Athenians  at  Gargettus,  wdiere  there  is  still  a  place  thence 
called  Araterion,  sailed  to  Scyros.*  He  imagined  that  there 

*  The  ungrateful  Athenians  were,  in  process  of  time,  made  so  sensible  of 
the  effects  cf  his  curse,  that,  to  appease  his  ghost,  they  appointed  solemn 
sacrifices,  and  divine  honours,  to  be  paid  to  him. 


THESEUS. 


55 


he  should  find  hospitable  treatment  as  he  had  a  paternal  estate 
in  that  island.  Lycomedes  was  then  king  of  the  Scyrians. 
To  him  therefore,  he  applied,  and  desired  to  be  put  in  posses¬ 
sion  of  the  lands,  as  intending  to  settle  there.  Some  say  he 
asked  assistance  of  him  against  the  Athenians.  But  Lyco¬ 
medes,  either  jealous  of  the  glory  of  Theseus,  or  willing  to 
oblige  Menestheus,  having  led  him  to  the  highest  cliffs  of  the 
country,  on  pretence  of  showing  him  from  thence  his  lands, 
threw  him  down  headlong  from  the  rocks,  and  killed  him. 
Others  say  he  fell  of  himself,  missing  his  step,  when  he  took 
a  walk,  according  to  his  custom,  after  supper.  At  that  time 
his  death  was  disregarded,  and  Menestheus  quietly  possessed 
the  kingdom  of  Athens,  while  the  sons  of  Theseus  attended 
Elephenor,  as  private  persons,  to  the  Trojan  war.  But  Me¬ 
nestheus  dying  in  the  same  expedition,  they  returned  and  re¬ 
covered  the  kingdom.  In  succeeding  ages,  the  Athenians 
honoured  Theseus  as  a  demi-god,  induced  to  it  as  well  by 
other  reasons,  as  because,  when  they  were  fighting  the  Medes 
at  Marathon,  a  considerable  part  of  the  army  thought  they 
saw  the  apparition  of  Theseus,  completely  armed,  and  bearing 
down  before  them  upon  the  barbarians. 

After  the  Median  war,  when  Phsedon  was  archon,*  the 
Athenians,  consulting  the  Oracle  of  Apollo,  were  ordered  by 
the  priestess  to  take  up  the  bones  of  Theseus,  and  lay  them  in 
an  honourable  place  at  Athens,  where  they  were  to  be  kept 
with  the  greatest  care.  But  it  was  difficult  to  take  them  up, 
or  even  to  find  out  the  grave,  on  account  of  the  savage  and  in¬ 
hospitable  disposition  of  the  barbarians  who  dwelt  in  Scyros. 
Nevertheless,  Cimon  having  taken  the  island  (as  is  related  in 
his  life),  and  being  very  desirous  to  find  out  the  place  where 

*  Codras,  the  seventeenth  king*  of  Athens,  contemporary  with  Saul,  de¬ 
voted  himself  to  death  for  the  sake  of  his  country,  in  the  year  before  Christ 
1068;  having*  learned  that  the  Oracle  had  promised  its  enemies,  the  Dorians 
and  the  Heraclidae,  victory,  if  they  did  not  kill  the  king  of  the  Athenians. 
His  subjects,  on  this  account,  conceived  such  veneration  for  him,  that  they 
esteemed  none  worthy  to  bear  the  royal  title  after  him,  and,  therefore,  com¬ 
mitted  the  management  of  the  state  to  elective  magistrates,  to  whom  they 
gave  the  title  of  archons,  and  chose  Medon,  the  eldest  son  of  Codrus,  to  this 
new  dignity.  Thus  ended  the  legal  succession,  and  title  of  king  of  Athens, 
after  it  had  continued,  without  any  interruption,  487  years,  from  Cecrops  to 
Codrus.  The  archon  acted  with  sovereign  authority,  but  was  accountable  to 
the  people  whenever  it  was  required.  There  were  thirteen  perpetual  ar¬ 
chons  in  the  space  of  325  years.  After  the  death  of  Alcmseon,  who  was  the 
last  of  them,  this  charge  was  continued  to  the  person  elected  for  ten  years 
only;  but  always  in  the  same  family,  till  the  death  of  Eryxias,  or,  according 
to  others,  of  Theseus,  the  seventh  and  last  decennial  archon.  For  the  family 
of  Codrus,  or  of  the  Medontidae,  ending  in  him,  the  Athenians  created  annua* 
archons,  and,  instead  of  one,  they  appointed  nine  every  year.  See  a  farthei 
account  of  the  archons  in  the  Notes  on  the  Life  of  Solon. 


56 


THESEUS. 


Theseus  was  buried,  by  chance  saw  an  eagle  on  a  certain  emt 
nence,  breaking  the  ground  (as  they  tell  us),  and  scratching  it 
up  with  her  talons.  This  he  considered  as  a  divine  direction, 
and  digging  there,  found  the  coffin  of  a  man  of  extraordin  ary 
size,  with  a  lance  of  brass,  and  a  sword  lying  by  it.  When 
these  remains  were  brought  to  Athens  in  Cimon’s  galley,  the 
Athenians  received  them  with  splendid  processions  and  sacri¬ 
fices,  and  were  as  much  transported  as  if  Theseus  himself  had 
returned  to  the  city.  He  lies  interred  in  the  middle  of  the 
town,  near  the  Gymnasium;  and  his  oratory  is  a  place  of  re¬ 
fuge  for  servants  and  all  persons  of  mean  condition,  who  fly 
from  men  in  power,  as  Theseus,  while  he  lived,  was  a  humane 
and  benevolent  patron,  who  graciously  received  the  petitions 
of  the  poor.  The  chief  sacrifice  is  offered  to  him  on  the  8th 
of  October,  the  day  on  which  he  returned  with  the  young  men 
from  Crete.  They  sacrifice  to  him  likewise  on  each  8th  day 
of  the  other  months,  either  because  he  first  arrived  from 
Troezene  on  the  8th  of  July,  as  Diodorus  the  geographer  re¬ 
lates;  or  else  thinking  this  number,  above  all  others,  to  be  most 
proper  to  him,  because  he  was  said  to  be  the  son  of  Neptune; 
the  solemn  feasts  of  Neptune  being  observed  on  the  8th  day  ol 
every  month.  For  the  number  eight,  as  the  first  cube  of  an 
even  number,  and  the  double  of  the  first  square,  properly  re¬ 
presents  the  firmness  and  immoveable  power  of  this  god,  who 
thence  has  the  names  of  Asphalius  and  Gaieochus. 


THE 


LIFE  OF  ROMULUS. 


If  rum  whom,  and  from  what  cause  the  city  of  Rome  obtain 
ed  that  name,  whose  glory  has  diffused  itself  over  the  world, 
historians  are  not  agreed.*  Some  say  the  Pelasgi,  after  they 
had  overrun  great  part  of  the  globe,  and  conquered  many  na¬ 
tions,  settled  there,  and  gave  their  city  the  name  of  Rome,t 
on  account  of  their  strength  in  war.  Others  tell  us,  that  when 
Troy  was  taken,  some  of  the  Trojans  having  escaped  and 
gained  their  ships,  put  to  sea,  and  being  driven  by  the  winds 
upon  the  coast  of  Tuscany,  came  to  an  anchor  in  the  river  Ti¬ 
ber;  that  here,  their  wives  being  much  fatigued,  and  no  long¬ 
er  able  to  bear  the  hardships  of  the  sea,  one  of  them,  superior 
to  the  rest  in  birth  and  prudence,  named  Roma,  proposed  that 
they  should  burn  the  fleet;  that  this  being  effected,  the  men  at 
first  were  much  exasperated,  but  afterwards,  through  neces¬ 
sity,  fixed  their  seat  on  the  Palatine  hill,  and  in  a  short  time 
things  succeeded  beyond  their  expectation;  for  the  country 
was  good,  J  and  the  people  hospitable;  that  therefore,  besides 
other  honours  paid  to  Roma,  they  called  their  city,  as  she  was 
the  cause  of  its  being  built,  after  her  name.  Hence,  too,  we 
are  informed,  the  custom  arose  for  the  women  to  salute  their 
relations  and  husbands  with  a  kiss;  because  those  women, 
when  they  had  burnt  the  ships,  used  such  kind  of  endearments 
to  appease  the  resentment  of  their  husbands. 

Among  the  various  accounts  of  historians,  it  is  said,  that 
Roma  was  the  daughter  of  Italus  and  Leucaria;  or  else  the 

*  Such  is  the  uncertainty  of  the  origin  of  imperial  Rome,  and  indeed  of 
most  cities  and  nations  that  are  of  any  considerable  antiquity.  That  of  Rome 
might  be  the  more  uncertain,  because  its  first  inhabitants,  being  a  collection 
of  mean  persons,  fugitives  and  outlaws,  from  other  nations,  could  not  be 
supposed  to  leave  histories  behind  them.  Livy,  however,  and  most  of  the 
Latin  historians,  agree  that  Rome  was  built  by  Romulus,  and  both  the  city 
and  people  named  after  him:  while  the  vanity  of  the  Greek  writers  wants 
to  ascribe  almost  every  thing,  and  Rome  among  the  rest,  to  a  Greciap 
original. 

f  Pet/urj,  Rome  signifies  strength . 

i  Whatever  desirable  things  nature  has  scattered  frugally  in  other  coun¬ 
tries,  were  formerly  found  in  Italy,  as  in  their  original  seminary.  But  there 
has  been  so  little  encouragement  given  to  tiie  cultivation  of  the  soil  in  the 
time  of  the  pontiffs,  that  it  is  now  comparativclv  barren. 

Vol.  I - K  7 


58 


ROMULUS. 


daughter  of  Telephus  the  son  of  Hercules,  and  married  to 
iEneas;  or  that  she  was  the  daughter  of  Ascanius,*  the  son  of 
iEneas,  and  gave  name  to  the  city;  or  that  Romanus,  the  son 
of  Ulysses  and  Circe,  built  it;  or  Romus,  the  son  of  iEmathion, 
whom  Diomedes  sent  from  Troy:  or  else  Romus,  king  of  the 
Latins,  after  he  had  expelled  the  Tuscans,  who  passed  origi¬ 
nally  from  Thessaly  into  Lydia,  and  from  Lydia  into  Italy. 
Even  they  who  with  the  greatest  probability,  declare  that  the 
city  had  its  name  from  Romulus,  do  not  agree  about  his  ex¬ 
traction;  for  some  say  he  was  son  of  ^.neas  andDexithea,  the 
daughter  of  Phorbus,  and  was  brought  an  infant  into  Italy 
with  his  brother  Remus,  that  all  the  other  vessels  were  lost  by 
the  violence  of  the  flood,  except  that  in  which  the  children 
were,  which,  driving  gently  ashore  where  the  bank  was  level, 
they  were  saved,  beyond  expectation,  and  the  place  from  them 
was  called  Rome.  Some  will  have  it,  that  Roma,  daughter 
of  that  Trojan  woman  who  was  married  to  Latinus,  the  son  of 
Telemachus,  was  mother  to  Romulus.  Others  say,  that  Ame¬ 
lia,  the  daughter  of  iEneas  and  Lavinia,  had  him  by  Mars;  and 
others  again  give  an  account  of  his  birth,  which  is  entirely 
fabulous.  There  appeared,  it  seems,  to  Tarchetius,  king  of 
the  Albans,  who  was  the  most  wicked  and  most  cruel  of  men, 
a  supernatural  vision  in  his  own  house,  the  figure  of  Priapus 
rising  out  of  the  chimney-hearth,  and  staying  there  many 
days.  The  goddess  Tethys  had  an  oracle  in  Tuscany,  t  which 
being  consulted,  gave  this  answer  to  Tarchetius, — That  it  was 
necessary  some  virgin  should  accept  of  the  embraces  of 
the  phantom,  the  fruit  whereof  would  be  a  son,  eminent  for 
valour,  good  fortune,  and  strength  of  body.  Hereupon  Tar¬ 
chetius  acquainted  one  of  his  daughters  with  the  prediction, 
and  ordered  her  to  entertain  the  apparition;  but  she  declining 
it,  sent  her  maid.  When  Tarchetius  came  to  know  it,  he 
was  highly  offended,  and  confined  them  both,  intending  to 
put  them  to  death.  But  Vesta  appeared  to  him  in  a  dream, 
and  forbade  him  to  kill  them;  but  ordered  that  the  young 
women  should  weave  a  certain  web  in  their  fetters,  and  when 
that  was  done,  be  given  in  marriage.  They  weaved  therefore 
in  the  day-time;  but  others,  by  Tarchetius’s  order,  unravelled 
it  in  the  night.  The  woman  having  twins  by  this  commerce, 
Tarchetius  delivered  them  to  one  Teratius,  with  orders  to  de¬ 
stroy  them;  but  instead  of  that,  he  exposed  them  by  a  river 
side,  where  a  she-wolf  came  and  gave  them  suck,  and  various 

*  Ot  <f*  A  mch/ix  t#  A  mix  [Svyurtcct  sc.]  a  <rzvoluci  SirQui  t  rj  7rcyu.  The 
former  English  translation,  and  the  French  in  this  place,  are  erroneous. 

j-  There  was  no  oracle  of  Tethys,  but  of  Themis  there  was.  Themis  was 
the  same  with  Carmenta,  the  mother  of  Evander,  which  last  name  she  hath 
because  she  delivered  her  oracles  in  carmine ,  in  verses. 


ROMULUS. 


59 


sorts  of  birds  brought  food  and  fed  the  infants,  till  at  last  a 
herdsman,  who  beheld  these  wonderful  things  ventured  to 
approach  and  take  up  the  children.  Thus  secured  from  dan 
ger,  they  grew  up,  and  then  attacked  Tarchetius,  and  over¬ 
came  him.  This  is  the  account  Promathion  gives  in  his  his¬ 
tory  of  Italy. 

But  the  principal  parts  of  that  account,  which  deserve  the 
most  credit,  and  have  the  most  vouchers,  were  first  published 
among  the  Greeks  by  Diodes  the  Peparethian,  whom  Fabius 
Pictor  commonly  follows;  and  though  there  are  different  rela¬ 
tions  of  the  matter,  yet,  to  despatch  it  in  a  few  words,  the 
story  is  this: — The  kings  of  Alba*  descending  lineally  from 
iEneas,  the  succession  fell  to  two  brothers,  Numitor  and  Amu- 
lius.  The  latter  divided  the  whole  inheritance  into  two  parts, 
setting  the  treasures  brought  from  Troy  against  the  kingdom; 
and  Numitor  made  choice  of  the  kingdom.  Amulius  then 
having  the  treasures,  and  consequently  being  more  powerful 
than  Numitor,  easily  possessed  himself  of  the  kingdom  too; 
and  fearing  the  daughter  of  Numitor  might  have  children,  he 
appointed  her  priestess  of  Vesta,  in  which  capacity  she  was 
always  to  live  unmarried  and  a  virgin.  Some  say  her  name 
was  Ilia,  some  Rhea,  and  others  Sylvia.  But  she  was  soon 
discovered  to  be  with  child,  contrary  to  the  law  of  the  vestals. 
Antho,  the  king’s  daughter,  by  much  entreaty,  prevailed  with 
her  father  that  she  should  not  be  capitally  punished.  She  was 
confined,  however,  and  excluded  from  society,  lest  she  should 
be  delivered  without  Amulius’s  knowledge.  When  her  time 
was  completed,  she  was  delivered  of  two  sons  of  uncommon 
size  and  beauty;  whereupon  Amulius,  still  more  alarmed,  or¬ 
dered  one  of  his  servants  to  destroy  them.  Some  say  the  name 
of  this  servant  was  Faustulus;  others,  that  that  was  the  name 
of  a  person  that  took  them  up.  Pursuant  to  his  orders,  he 
put  the  children  into  a  small  trough  or  cradle,  and  went  down 
towards  the  river,  with  a  design  to  cast  them  in;  but  seeing  it 
very  rough,  and  running  with  a  strong  current,  he  was  afraid 
to  approach  it.  He  therefore  laid  them  down  near  the  bank, 
and  departed.  The  flood  increasing  continually,  set  the  trough 
afloat,  and  carried  it  gently  down  to  a  pleasant  place,  now 
called  Cermanum,  but  formerly  (as  it  should  seem)  Germanum, 
denoting  that  the  brothers  arrived  there. 

Near  this  place  was  a  wild  fig-tree,  which  they  called  Ru- 

*  From  JEneas  down  to  Numitor  and  Amulius.  there  were  thirteen  king’s  of 
the  same  race,  but  we  scarce  know  any  thing’  of  them,  except  their  names 
and  the  years  of  their  respective  reigns.  Amulius,  the  last  of  them,  who 
surpassed  his  brother  in  courage  and  understanding’,  drove  him  from  the 
throne,  and,  to  secure  it  for  himself,  murdered  iEgestus,  Numitor’s  only  soi* 
and  consecrated  his  daughter  Rhea  Sylvia  to  the  worship  if  Vesta. 


60 


ROMULUS. 


minalis,  either  on  account  of  Romulus,  as  is  generally  sup¬ 
posed,  or  because  the  cattle  there  ruminated,  or  chewed  the 
cud,  during  the  noon-tide,  in  the  shade;  or  rather,  because  of 
the  suckling  of  the  children  there;  for  the  ancient  Latins  called 
the  breast  ruma ,  and  the  goddess  who  presides  over  the  nur¬ 
sery  Rumilia,*  whose  rites  they  celebrated  without  wine,  and 
only  with  libations  of  milk.  The  infants,  as  the  story  goes, 
lying  there,  were  suckled  by  a  she-wolf,  and  fed  and  taken 
care  oi  by  a  wood-pecker.  These  animals  are  sacred  to  Mars; 
and  the  wood-pecker  is  held  in  great  honour  and  veneration 
by  the  Latins.  Such  wonderful  events  contributed  not  a  lit¬ 
tle  to  gain  credit  to  the  mother’s  report,  that  she  had  the  chil¬ 
dren  by  Mars;  though  in  this  they  tell  us,  she  was  herself  de¬ 
ceived,  having  suffered  violence  from  Amulius,  wTho  came  to 
her,  and  lay  with  her  in  armour.  Some  say,  the  ambiguity 
of  the  nurse’s  name  gave  occasion  to  the  fable;  for  the  Latins 
call  not  only  she-wolves,  but  prostitutes,  lupse ;  and  such  was 
Acca  Larentia,  the  wTife  of  Faustulus,  the  foster-father  of  the 
children.  To  her  also  the  Romans  offer  sacrifice,  and  the 
priest  of  Mars  honours  her  with  libations  in  the  month  of 
April,  when  they  celebrate  her  feast  Larentialia. 

They  worship  also  another  Larentia,  on  the  following  ac¬ 
count: — The  keeper  of  the  temple  of  Hercules  having,  it  seems, 
little  else  to  do,  proposed  to  play  a  game  at  dice  with  the  god, 
on  condition  that,  if  he  won,  he  should  have  something  valua¬ 
ble  of  that  deity;  but  if  he  lost,  he  should  provide  a  noble  en¬ 
tertainment  for  him,  and  a  beautiful  woman  to  lie  with  him. 
Then  throwing  the  dice,  first  for  the  god,  and  next  for  him¬ 
self,  it  appeared  that  he  had  lost.  Willing,  however,  to  stand 
to  his  bargain,  and  to  perform  the  conditions  agreed  upon,  he 
prepared  a  supper,  and  engaging  for  the  purpose  one  La¬ 
rentia,  who  was  very  handsome,  but  as  yet  little  known,  he 
treated  her  in  the  temple,  where  he  had  provided  a  bed,  and; 
after  supper,  left  her  for  the  enjoyment  of  the  god.  It  is  said, 
that  the  deity  had  some  conversation  with  her,  and  ordered 
her  to  go  early  in  the  morning  to  the  market-place,  salute  the 
first  man  she  should  meet,  and  make  him  her  friend.  The 
man  that  met  her  was  one  far  advanced  in  years,  and  in  opu¬ 
lent  circumstances,  Tarrutius  by  name,  who  had  no  children, 
and  never  had  been  married.  This  man  took  Larentia  to  his 
bed,  and  loved  her  so  well  that  at  his  death  he  left  her  heir  tc 
his  whole  estate,  which  was  very  considerable;  and  she  after¬ 
wards  bequeathed  the  greatest  part  of  it  by  will  to  the  people. 
It  is  said,  that  at  the  time  when  she  was  in  high  reputation, 
and  considered  as  the  favourite  of  a  god,  she  suddenly  disap* 

#  The  Romans  called  that  goddess,  not  Rumilif  9  but  Rumina. 


ROMULUS. 


61 


f  eared  about  the  place  where  the  former  Larentia  was  laid, 
t  is  now  called  Velabrum,  because  the  river  often  overflow* 
ing,  they  passed  it  at  this  place  in  ferry-boats,  to  go  to  the  fo¬ 
rum.  This  kind  of  passage  they  call  velatura.  Others  derive 
the  name  from  velum ,  a  sail,  because  they  who  have  the  exhib¬ 
iting  of  the  public  shows,  beginning  at  Velabrum,  overshade 
all  the  way  that  leads  from  the  forum  to  the  Hippodrome  with 
canvas;  for  a  sail  in  Latin  is  velum .  On  these  accounts  is  the 
second  Larentia  so  much  honoured  among  the  Romans. 

In  the  mean  time  Faustulus  Amulius’s  herdsman,  brought 
up  the  children  entirely  undiscovered;  or  rather,  as  others  with 
greater  probability  assert,  Numitor  knew  it  from  the  first, * 
and  privately  supplied  the  necessaries  for  their  maintenance. 
It  is  also  said  that  they  were  sent  to  Gabii,  and  there  instruct¬ 
ed  in  letters,  and  other  branches  of  education  suitable  to  their 
birth;  and  history  informs  us  that  they  had  the  names  of  Ro¬ 
mulus  and  Remus,  from  the  teat  of  the  wild  animal  which  they 
were  seen  to  suck.  The  beauty  and  dignity  of  their  persons, 
even  in  their  childhood,  promised  a  generous  disposition; 
and  as  they  grew  up,  they  both  discovered  great  courage  and 
bravery,  with  an  inclination  to  hazardous  attempts,  and  a  spirit 
which  nothing  could  subdue.  But  Romulus  seemed  more  to 
cultivate  the  powers  of  reason,  and  to  excel  in  political  know¬ 
ledge;  whilst  by  his  deportment  among  his  neighbours,  in  the 
employments  of  pasturage  and  hunting,  he  convinced  them 
that  he  was  born  to  command  rather  than  to  obey.  To  their 
equals  and  inferiors  they  behaved  very  courteously;  but  they 
despised  the  king’s  bailiffs  and  chief  herdsmen,  as  not  superi 
or  to  themselves  in  courage,  though  they  were  in  authority, 
disregarding  at  once  their  threats  and  their  anger.  They  ap 
plied  themselves  to  generous  exercises  and  pursuits,  looking 
upon  idleness  and  inactivity  as  illiberal  things,  but  on  hunt¬ 
ing,  running,  banishing  or  apprehending  robbers,  and  deliver¬ 
ing  such  as  were  oppressed  by  violence,  as  the  employments 
of  honour  and  virtue.  By  these  things  they  gained  great  re¬ 
nown. 

A  dispute  arising  between  the  herdsmen  of  Numitor  and 
Amulius,  and  the  former  having  driven  away  some  catfle  be¬ 
longing  to  the  latter,  Romulus  and  Remus  fell  upon  them,  put 
them  to  flight  and  recovered  the  greatest  part  of  the  booty. 
At  this  conduct  Numitor  was  highly  offended;  but  they  little 
regarded  his  resentment.  The  first  steps  they  took  on  this  oc- 

*  Numitor  might  build  upon  this  the  hopes  of  his  re-establishment  but 
his  knowing  the  place  where  the  children  were  brought  up,  and  supplying 
them  with  necessaries,  is  quite  inconsistent  with  the  manner  of  their  Cisco 
very  when  grown  up,  which  is  the  mcst  agreeable  part  of  the  story. 

7 


62 


ROMULUS. 


casion  were  to  collect,  and  receive  into  their  company,  per* 
sons  of  desperate  fortunes,  and  a  great  number  of  slaves;  a 
measure  which  gave  alarming  proofs  of  their  bold  and  sedi¬ 
tious  inclinations.  It  happened,  that  when  Romulus  was  em¬ 
ployed  in  sacrificing,  for  to  that  and  divination  he  was  much 
inclined,  Numitor’s  herdsmen  met  with  Remus,  as  he  was 
walking  with  a  small  retinue,  and  fell  upon  him.  After  some 
blows  exchanged,  and  wounds  given  and  received,  Numitor’s 
people  prevailed,  and  took  Remus  prisoner.  He  was  carried 
before  Numitor,  and  had  several  things  laid  to  his  charge;  but 
Numitor  did  not  choose  to  punish  him  himself,  for  fear  of  his 
brother’s  resentment.  To  him,  therefore,  he  applied  for  jus¬ 
tice,  which  he  had  all  the  reason  in  the  world  to  expect,  since, 
though  brother  to  the  reigning  prince,  he  had  been  injured  by 
his  servants,  who  presumed  upon  his  authority.  The  people 
of  Alba,  moreover,  expressing  their  uneasiness,  and  thinking 
that  Numitor  suffered  great  indignities,  Amulius,  moved  with 
their  complaints,  delivered  Remus  to  him,  to  be  treated  as  he 
should  think  proper.  When  the  youth  was  conducted  to  his 
house,  Numitor  was  greatly  struck  with  his  appearance,  as  he 
was  very  remarkable  for  size  and  strength;  he  observed,  too, 
his  presence  of  mind,  and  the  steadiness  of  his  looks,  which 
had  nothing  servile  in  them,  nor  were  altered  with  the  sense 
of  his  present  danger;  and  he  was  informed,  that  his  actions 
and  whole  behaviour  were  suitable  to  what  he  saw.  But,  above 
all,  some  divine  influence,  as  it  seems,  directing  the  beginnings 
of  the  great  events  that  were  to  follow,  Numitor,  by  his  saga 
city,  or  by  a  fortunate  conjecture,  suspecting  the  truth,  ques¬ 
tioned  him  concerning  the  circumstances  of  his  birth;  speak¬ 
ing  mildly  at  the  same  time,  and  regarding  him  with  a  gra¬ 
cious  eye.  He  boldly  answered, — u  I  will  hide  nothing  from 
you,  for  you  behave  in  a  more  princely  manner  than  Amulius, 
since  you  hear  and  examine  before  you  punish;  but  he  has  de¬ 
livered  us  up  without  inquiring  into  the  matter.  I  have  a  twin- 
brother,  and  heretofore  we  believed  ourselves  the  sons  of 
Faustulus  and  Larentia,  servants  to  the  king;  but  since  we 
were  accused  before  you,  and  so  pursued  by  slander,  as  to  be 
in  danger  of  our  lives,  we  hear  nobler  things  concerning  our 
birth.  Whether  they  are  true  the  present  crisis  will  show 
Our  birth  is  said  to  have  been  secret,  our  support  in  our  infan¬ 
cy  miraculous.  We  were  exposed  to  birds  and  wild  beasts, 
and  by  them  nourished;  suckled  by  a  she-wolf,  and  fed  by  the 
attentions  of  a  wood-pecker,  as  we  lay  in  a  trough  by  the 
great  river.  The  trough  is  still  preserved,  bound  about  wuh 

For  if  they  were  true,  the  god  who  miraculously  protected  them  in  then 
infancy,  would  deliver  Remus  from  his  present  danger. 


ROMULUS. 


G  5 

r>rass  bands,  and  inscribed  with  letters  partly  faded;  which 
may  prove  perhaps,  hereafter,  very  useful  tokens  to  our  pa¬ 
rents,  when  we  are  destroyed.”  Numitor  hearing  this,  and 
comparing  the  time  with  the  young  man’s  looks,  was  confirm¬ 
ed  in  the  pleasing  hope  he  had  conceived,  and  considered  how 
he  might  consult  his  daughter  about  this  affair;  for  she  was 
still  kept  in  close  custody. 

Meanwhile  Faustulus,  having  heard  that  Remus  was  taken 
and  delivered  up  to  punishment,  desired  Romulus  to  assist  his 
brother,  informing  him  then  clearly  of  the  particulars  of  his 
birth;  for  before  he  had  only  given  dark  hints  about  it,  and 
signified  just  so  much  as  might  take  off  the  attention  of  his 
wards  from  every  thing  that  was  mean.  He  himself  took  the 
trough,  and  in  all  the  tumult  of  concern  and  fear,  carried  it  to 
Numitor.  His  disorder  raised  some  suspicion  in  the  king’s 

f;uards  at  the  gate;  and  that  disorder  increasing  while  they 
ooked  earnestly  upon  him,  and  perplexed  him  with  their 
questions,  he  was  discovered  to  have  a  trough  under  his  cloak. 
There  happened  to  be  among  them  one  of  those  who  had  it  in 
charge  to  throw  the  children  into  the  river,  and  who  was  con¬ 
cerned  in  the  exposing  of  them.  This  man  seeing  the  trough, 
and  knowing  it  by  its  make  and  inscription,  rightly  guessed 
the  business;  and  thinking  it  an  affair  not  to  be  neglected, 
immediately  acquainted  the  king  with  it,  and  put  him  upon 
inquiring  into  it.  In  these  great  and  pressing  difficulties, 
Faustulus  did  not  preserve  entirely  his  presence  of  mind,  nor 
yet  fully  discover  the  matter.  He  acknowledged  that  the 
children  were  saved  indeed,  but  said  that  they  kept  cattle  at  a 
great  distance  from  Alba;  and  that  he  was  carrying  the  trough 
to  Ilia,  who  had  often  desired  to  see  it,  that  she  might  enter¬ 
tain  the  better  hopes  that  her  children  were  alive.  Whatever 
persons  perplexed  and  actuated  with  fear  or  anger  use  to  suf¬ 
fer,  Amulius  then  suffered;  for  in  his  hurry  he  sent  an  honest 
man,  a  friend  of  Numitor’s  to  inquire  of  him  whether  he  had 
any  account  that  the  children  were  alive.  When  the  man  was 
come,  and  saw  Remus  almost  in  the  embraces  of  Numitor,  he 
endeavoured  to  confirm  him  in  the  persuasion  that  the  youth 
was  really  his  grandson;  begging  him,  at  the  same  time,  im¬ 
mediately  to  take  the  best  measures  that  could  be  thought  oi, 
and  offering  his  best  assistance  to  support  their  party.  The 
occasion  admitted  of  no  delay,  if  they  had  been  inclined  to  it; 
for  Romulus  was  now  at  hand,  and  a  good  number  of  the  citi¬ 
zens  were  gathered  about  him,  either  out  of  hatred  or  fear  of 
Amulius.  He  brought  also  a  considerable  force  with  him, 
divided  into  companies  of  a  hundred  men  each,  headed  by  an 
officer  who  bore  a  handful  of  grass  and  shrubs  upon  a  pole. 
These  the  Latins  called  Manipuii;  and  hence  it  is,  that  to  this 


04 


ROMULUS. 


day  soldiers  of  the  same  company  are  called  Manipulares 
Remus  then,  having  gained  those  within,  and  Romulus  as« 
saulting  the  palace  without,  the  tyrant  knew  not  how  to  do, 
or  whom  he  should  consult;  but  amidst  his  doubts  and  per¬ 
plexity  was  taken  and  slain.  These  particulars,  though  most¬ 
ly  related  by  Fabius,  and  Diodes  the  Peparethian,  who  seems 
to  have  been  the  first  that  wrote  about  the  founding  of  Rome, 
are  yet  suspected  by  some  as  fabulous  and  groundless.  Per¬ 
haps,  however,  we  should  not  be  so  incredulous,  when  W3 
see  what  extraordinary  events  fortune  produces;  nor,  when  we 
consider  what  height  of  greatness  Rome  attained  to,  can  we 
think  it  could  ever  have  been  effected  without  some  super 
natural  assistance  at  first,  and  an  origin  more  than  human. 

Amulius  being  dead,  and  the  troubles  composed,  the  two 
brothers  were  not  willing  to  live  in  Alba  without  governing 
there,  nor  yet  to  take  the  government  upon  them  during  their 
grandfather’s  life.  Having,  therefore,  invested  him  with  it, 
and  paid  due  honours  to  their  mother,  they  determined  to 
dwell  in  a  city  of  their  own,  and,  for  that  purpose,  to  build 
one  in  the  place  where  they  had  their  first  nourishment.  This 
seems,  at  least,  to  be  the  most  plausible  reason  of  their  quit¬ 
ting  Alba;  and  perhaps,  too,  it  was  necessary,  as  agreatnum« 
ber  of  slaves  and  fugitives  was  collected  about  them,  either  to 
see  their  affairs  entirely  ruined,  if  these  should  disperse,  or 
with  them  to  seek  another  habitation;  for  that  the  people  of 
Alba  refused  to  permit  the  fugitives  to  mix  with  them,  or  to 
receive  them  as  citizens,  sufficiently  appears  from  the  rape  of 
the  women,  which  was  not  undertaken  out  of  a  licentious  hu 
mour,  but  deliberately,  and  through  necessity,  from  the  want 
of  wives,  since,  after  they  seized  them,  they  treated  them 
very  honourably. 

As  soon  as  the  foundation  of  the  city  was  laid,  they  opened 
a  place  of  refuge  for  fugitives,  which  they  called  the  temple 
of  the  Asylaean  God.*  Here  they  received  all  that  came, 
md  would  neither  deliver  up  the  slave  to  his  master,  the 
debtor  to  his  creditor,  nor  the  murderer  to  the  magistrate,  de¬ 
claring  that  they  were  directed  by  the  Oracle  of  Apollo  to 
preserve  the  asylum  from  all  violation.  Thus  the  city  was 
soon  peopled  ;t  for  it  is  said,  that  the  houses  at  first  did  not 
exceed  a  thousand.  But  of  that  hereafter. 

*  It  is  not  certain  who  this  God  of  Refuge  was.  Dionysius  of  Halicamaa 
sus  tells  us,  that,  in  his  time,  the  place  where  the  asylum  had  been,  was 
consecrated  to  Jupiter.  Romulus  did  not  at  first  receive  the  fug-itives  and 
outlaw  s  within  the  walls,  but  allowed  them  the  hill  Satumius,  afterwards 
called  Capitolinus,  for  their  habitation. 

•{■  Most  of  the  Trojans,  of  whom  there  still  remained  fifty  families  in  Au 


ROMULUS. 


65 


While  they  were  intent  upon  building,  a  dispute  soon  arose 
about  the  place.  Romulus  having  built  a  square,  which  be 
called  Rome,  would  have  the  city  there;  but  Remus  marked 
out  a  more  secure  situation  on  mount  Aventine,  which,  from 
him  was  called  Remonium,'*  but  now  has  the  name  of  Rigna- 
riun..  The  dispute  was  referred  to  the  decision  of  augury; 
and  for  this  purpose  they  set  down  in  the  open  air,  when  Re¬ 
mus,  as  they  tell  us,  saw  six  vultures,  and  Romulus  twice  as 
many.  Some  say  Remus’s  account  of  the  number  he  had  seen 
was  true,  and  that  of  Romulus  not  so;  but  when  Remus  came 
up  to  him,  he  did  really  see  twelve.  Hence  the  Romans,  in 
their  divination  by  the  flight  of  birds,  chiefly  regard  the  vul¬ 
ture;  though  Herodotus  of  Pontus  relates,  that  Hercules  used 
to  rejoice  when  a  vulture  appeared  to  him  as  he  was  going 
upon  any  great  action.  This  was  probably  because  it  is  a 
creature  the  least  mischievous  of  any,  pernicious  neither  to 
corn,  plants,  nor  cattle.  It  only  feeds  upon  dead  carcasses, 
but  neither  kills  nor  preys  upon  any  thing  that  has  life.  As 
for  birds,  it  does  not  touch  them  even  when  dead,  because  they 
are  of  its  own  nature;  while  eagles,  owls,  and  hawks,  tear 
and  kill  their  own  kind;  and,  as  iEschylus  has  it: — 

What  bird  is  clean  that  fellow-birds  devours? 

Besides,  other  birds  are  frequently  seen,  and  may  be  found 
at  any  time;  but  a  vulture  is  an  uncommon  sight,  and  we  have 
seldom  met  with  any  of  their  young;  so  that  the  rarity  of  them 
has  occasioned  an  absurd  opinion  in  some,  that  they  come  to 
us  from  other  countries;  and  soothsayers  judge  every  unusual 
appearance  to  be  preternatural,  and  the  effect  of  a  divine 
power. 

When  Remus  knew  that  he  was  imposed  upon,  he  was  high¬ 
ly  incensed;  and  as  Romulus  was  opening  a  ditch  round  the 
place  where  the  walls  were  to  be  built,  he  ridiculed  some 
parts  of  the  work,  and  obstructed  others;  at  last,  as  he  pre¬ 
sumed  to  leap  over  it,  some  say  he  fell  by  the  hand  of  Romu¬ 
lus;!  others  by  that  of  Celer,  one  of  his  companions.  Faus- 

gustus’s  time,  chose  to  follow  the  fortune  of  Romulus  and  Remus,  as  did  also 
the  inhabitants  of  Pallantium  and  Saturnia,  two  small  towns. 

*  We  find  no  mention  either  of  Remonium  or  Rignarium,  in  any  othei 
writer.  An  anonymous  MS.  reads  Remoria;  and  Festus  tells  us  (De  Ling. 
Latin,  lib.  ii.)  the  summit  of  mount  Aventine  was  called  Remuria.  from  the 
time  Remus  resolved  to  build  the  city  there.  But  Dionysius  of  Halicarnas¬ 
sus  speaks  of  mount  Aventine  and  Remuria  as  two  different  places;  and  Ste- 
phanus  will  have  Remuria  to  have  been  a  city  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Rome. 

tThe  two  brothers  first  differed  about  the  place  where  their  new  city  waj 
e  built,  and  referring  the  matter  to  their  grandfather,  he  advised  then 

V oi,.  j. - L 


66 


ROMULUS. 


tulus  also  fell  in  the  scuffle  ;  and  Plistinus,  who,  being  brothei 
to  Faustulus,  is  said  to  have  assisted  in  bringing  Romulus  up 
Celer  fled  into  Tuscan j;  and  from  him  such  as  are  swift  of 
foot,  or  expeditious  in  business,  are  by  the  Romans  called 
celeres.  Thus,  when  Quintus  Metellus,  within  a  few  days 
after  his  father’s  death,  provided  a  show  of  gladiators,  the 
people  admiring  his  quick  despatch,  gave  him  the  name  of 
Celer. 

Romulus  buried  his  brother  Remus,  together  with  his  fos¬ 
ter-fathers,  in  Remonia,  and  then  built  his  city,  having  sent 
for  persons  from  Hetruria,*  who  (as  is  usual  in  sacred  mys¬ 
teries),  according  to  stated  ceremonies  and  written  rules,  were 
to  order  and  direct  how  every  thing  was  to  be  done.  First,  a 
circular  ditch  was  dug  about  what  is  now  called  the  Comitium, 
or  Hall  of  Justice,  and  the  first  fruits  of  every  thing  that  is 
reckoned  either  good  by  use,  or  necessary  by  nature,  were 
cast  into  it;  and  then  each,  bringing  a  small  quantity  of  the 
earth  of  the  country  from  whence  he  came,  threw  it  in  pro¬ 
miscuously.!  This  ditch  had  the  name  of  Mundus,  the  same 
with  that  of  the  universe.  In  the  next  place,  they  marked 
out  the  city,  like  a  circle,  round  this  centre;  and  the  foundei 
having  fitted  to  a  plough  a  brazen  plough-share,  and  yoked  a 
bull  and  cow  himself,  drew  a  deep  furrow  round  the  bounda¬ 
ries.  The  business  of  those  that  followed  was  to  turn  all  the 
clods  raised  by  the  plough  inwards  to  the  city,  and  not  to  suf¬ 
fer  any  to  remain  outwards.  This  line  described  the  compass 
of  the  city;  and  between  it  and  the  walls  is  a  space  called,  by 

to  have  it  decided  by  augury.  In  this  augury  Romulus  imposed  upon  Re¬ 
mus;  and  when  the  former  prevailed  that  the  city  should  be  built  upon 
mount  Palatine,  the  builders  being  divided  into  two  companies,  were  no 
better  than  two  factions.  At  last  Remus  in  contempt  leaped  over  the  work, 
and  said, — “  Just  so  will  the  enemy  leap  over  it;”  whereupon  Celer  gave 
him  a  deadly  blow,  and  answered, — “  In  this  manner  will  our  citizens  re¬ 
pulse  the  enemy.”  Some  say,  that  Romulus  was  so  afflicted  at  the  death 
of  his  brother,  that  he  would  have  laid  violent  hands  upon  himself,  if  he  had 
not  been  prevented. 

*  The  Hetrurians  or  Tuscans  had,  as  Festus  informs  us,  a  sort  of  ritual 
wherein  were  contained  the  ceremonies  that  were  to  be  observed  in  building 
cities,  temples,  altars,  walls,  and  gates.  They  were  instructed  in  augury 
and  religious  rites  by  Tages,  who  is  said  to  have  been  taught  by  Mercury. 

j-  Ovid  does  not  say  it  was  a  handful  of  the  earth  each  had  brought  out  of 
his  own  country,  but  of  the  earth  he  had  taken  from  his  neighbours;  whicli 
was  done  to  signify,  that  Rome  would  soon  subdue  the  neighbouring  nations. 
But  Isidorus  (lib  xxv.  cap.  2,)  is  of  opinion,  that  by  throwing  the  first-fruits 
and  a  handful  of  earth  into  the  trench,  they  admonish  the  heads  of  the  colo¬ 
ny,  that  it  ought  to  be  their  chief  study  to  procure  for  their  fellow-citizens 
ail  the  conveniencies  of  life,  to  maintain  peace  and  union  among  ft  a  people 
come  together  from  different  parts  of  the  world,  and  by  this  to  form  them¬ 
selves  into  a  body  never  to  be  dissolved 


ROMULUS. 


6*3 


contraction,  Pomerium,  as  lying  behind  or  beyond  the  wall. 
Where  they  designed  to  have  a  gate,  they  took  the  plough¬ 
share  out  of  the  ground,  and  lifted  up  the  plough,  making  a 
break  for  it.  Hence  they  look  upon  the  whole  wall  as  sacred 
except  the  gateways.  If  they  considered  the  gates  in  the  same 
light  as  the  i  est,  it  would  be  deemed  unlawful  either  to  re¬ 
ceive  the  necessaries  of  life  by  them,  or  to  carry  out  what  is 
unclean. 

The  day  on  which  they  began  to  build  the  city  is  univer¬ 
sally  allowed  to  be  the  2 1st  of  April  and  is  celebrated  annual¬ 
ly  by  the  Romans  as  the  birth-day  of  Rome.  At  first,  we 
are  told,  they  sacrificed  nothing  that  had  life,  persuaded  that 
they  ought  to  keep  the  solemnity  sacred  to  the  birth  of  their 
country  pure,  and  without  bloodshed.  Nevertheless,  before 
the  city  was  built,  on  that  same  day,  they  had  kept  a  pastoral 
feast  called  Palilia.  *  At  present,  indeed,  there  is  very  little 
analogy  between  the  Roman  and  the  Grecian  months;  yet  the 
day  on  which  Romulus  founded  the  city  is  strongly  affirmed 
to  be  the  30th  of  the  month.  On  that  day,  too,  we  are  in¬ 
formed,  there  was  a  conjunction  of  the  sun  and  moon,  attend 
ed  with  an  eclipse;  the  same  that  was  observed  by  Antimachus 
the  Teian  poet,  in  the  third  year  of  the  sixth  Olympiad. 

Varro  the  philosopher,  who  of  all  the  Romans  was  most 
skilled  in  history,  had  an  acquaintance  named  Tarutius,  who, 
besides  his  knowledge  in  philosophy  and  the  mathematics,  to 
indulge  his  speculative  turn,  had  applied  himself  to  astrology, 
and  was  thought  to  be  a  perfect  master  of  it.  To  him  Varro 
proposed  to  find  out  the  day  and  hour  of  Romulus’s  birth, 
making  his  calculation  from  the  known  events  of  his  life,  as 
problems  in  geometry  are  solved  by  the  analytic  method ;  for 
it  belongs  to  the  same  science,  when  a  man’s  nativity  is  given, 
to  predict  his  life,  and  when  his  life  is  given,  to  find  out  his 
nativity.  Tarutius  complied  with  the  request;  and  when  he 
had  considered  the  dispositions  and  actions  of  Romulus,  how 
long  he  lived,  and  in  what  manner  he  died,  and  had  put  all 
these  things  together,  he  affirmed,  without  doubt  or  hesita¬ 
tion,  that  his  conception  was  in  the  first  year  of  the  second 
Olympiad,  on  the  23rd  day  of  the  month  which  the  Egyptians 
call  Cnoeac  (December),  at  the  third  hour,  when  the  sun  was 
totally  eclipsed ;t  and  that  his  birth  was  on  the  23rd  day  of 

*  The  Palilia,  or  Feast  of  Pales,  is  sometimes  called  Parilia,  from  the 
Latin  word,  par  ere,  to  bring  forth,  because  prayers  were  then  made  for  the 
frui'iulness  of  the  sheep.  According*  to  Ovid  (Fast.  lib.  iv.)  the  shepherds 
then  made  a  great  feast  at  nig*ht,  and  concluded  the  whole  with  dancing 
over  the  fil  es  they  had  made  in  the  fields  with  heaps  of  straw. 

f  There  was  no  total  eclipse  of  the  sun  in  the  first  year  of  the  second 
Olympiad,  but  in  the  second  year  of  that  Olympiad  there  was.  If  Romulus 


68 


ROMULUS. 


the  month  Thoth  (September),  about  sun-rise;  and  that  he 
founded  Rome  on  the  9th  of  the  month  Pharmuthi  (April), 
between  the  second  and  third  hour;*  for  it  is  supposed  that 
the  fortunes  of  cities,  as  well  as  men,  have  their  proper  pe¬ 
riods  determined  by  the  positions  of  the  stars  at  the  time  of  their 
nativity.  These,  and  the  like  relations,  may,  perhaps,  rather 
please  the  reader,  because  they  are  curious,  than  disgust  him, 
because  they  arc  fabulous. 

When  the  city  was  built,  Romulus  divided  the  younger 
part  of  the  inhabitants  into  battalions.  Each  corps  consisted 
of  three  thousand  foot,  and  three  hundred  horse,  and  was  call¬ 
ed  a  legion,  because  the  most  warlike  persons  were  selected,  t 
The  rest  of  the  multitude  he  called  the  People.  A  hundred 
of  the  most  considerable  citizens  he  took  for  his  council,  with 
the  title  of  Patricians,  f  and  the  whole  body  was  called  the  Sen¬ 
ate,  which  signifies  an  Assembly  of  Old  Men.  Its  members 
were  styled  Patricians;  because,  as  some  say,  they  were  fa¬ 
thers  of  free-born  children;  or  rather,  according  to  others,  be¬ 
cause  they  themselves  had  fathers  to  show,  which  was  not 
the  case  with  many  of  the  rabble  that  first  flocked  to  the  city 
Others  derive  the  title  from  Patrocinium ,  or  Patronage,  attri¬ 
buting  the  origin  of  the  term  to  one  Patron,  who  came  over 
with  Evander,  and  was  remarkable  for  his  humanity  and  care 
of  the  distressed.  But  we  shall  be  nearer  the  truth,  if  we  con 

was  conceived  in  the  year  last  named,  it  will  agree  with  the  common  opin 
ion,  that  he  was  eighteen  years  old  when  he  founded  Rome,  and  that  Rome 
was  founded  in  the  first  year  of  the  seventh  Olympiad. 

*  There  is  gTeat  disagreement  among*  historians  and  chronolog*ers,  as  10 
the  year  of  the  foundation  of  Rome.  Varro  places  it  in  the  third  year  of  the 
sixth  Olympiad,  752  years  before  the  Christian  era;  and  Fabius  Pictor,  who 
is  the  most  ancient  of  all  the  Roman  writers,  and  followed  by  the  learned 
Usher,  places  it  in  the  end  of  the  seventh  Olympiad,  which,  according*  to 
that  prelate,  was  in  the  year  of  the  world  3256,  and  748  before  Christ.  But 
Dionysius  Halicarnassus,  Solinus,  and  Eusebius,  place  it  in  the  first  year  of 
the  seventh  Olympiad. 

■f  Instead  of  this,  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  tells  us  (lib.  ii.  p.  76,)  the 
whole  colony  consisted  of  but  3300  men.  These  Romulus  divided  into  three 
equal  parts,  which  he  called  tribes  or  thirds,  each  of  which  was  to  be  com¬ 
manded  by  its  prefect  or  tribune.  The  tribes  were  divided  into  ten  curie, 
and  these  subdivided  into  ten  decurae.  The  number  of  houses,  or  rather 
huts,  which  was  but  a  thousand,  bears  witness  to  the  truth  of  Dionysius’s 
assertion.  But  it  is  probable  the  mean  rabble,  who  took  the  protection  of 
the  asylum,  and  who  might  be  very  numerous,  were  not  reckoned  among 
the  3300  first  colonists,  though  they  were  afterwards  admitted  to  the  privi¬ 
leges  of  citizens. 

+  The  choice  of  these  hundred  persons  was  not  made  by  the  king  himselfi 
each  tribe  chose  three  senators,  and  each  of  the  thirty  curae  the  like  number, 
which  made  in  all  the  number  of  ninety -nine;  so  that  Romulus  named  onlj 
the  hundredth,  who  wras  the  head,  or  prince  of  the  senate,  and  the  chief  gov 
emor  nf  the  city,  when  the  king  was  in  the  field. 


ROMULUS. 


69 


elude  that  Romulus  styled  them  Patricians,  as  expecting  these 
respectable  persons  would  watch  over  those  in  humble  stations 
with  a  paternal  care  and  ragard:  and  teaching  the  common¬ 
alty  in  their  turn  not  to  fear  or  envy  the  power  of  their  su¬ 
periors,  but  to  behave  to  them  with  love  and  respect,  both 
looking  upon  them  as  fathers,  and  honouring  them  with  that 
name.  For  at  this  very  time,  foreign  nations  call  the  senators 
iords,  but  the  Romans  themselves  call  them  conscript  fathers, 
a  style  of  greater  dignity  and  honour,  and  withal  much  less 
invidious.  At  first,  indeed,  they  were  called  fathers  only; 
but  afterwards,  when  more  were  enrolled  in  their  body,  con¬ 
script  fathers.  With  this  venerable  title,  then,  he  distin¬ 
guished  the  senate  from  the  people.  He  likewise  made  ano¬ 
ther  distinction  between  the  nobility  and  the  commons,  call¬ 
ing  the  former  patrons,*  and  the  other  clients;  which  was  the 
source  of  mutual  kindness  and  many  good  offices  between 
them.  For  the  patrons  were  to  those  they  had  taken  under 
their  protection,  counsellors  and  advocates  in  their  suits  at 
law,  and  advisers  and  assistants  on  all  occasions.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  clients  failed  not  in  their  attentions,  whether 
they  were  to  be  shown  in  deference  and  respect,  or  in  provid¬ 
ing  their  daughters’  portions,  or  in  satisfying  their  creditors, 
if  their  circumstances  happened  to  be  narrow.  No  law  or 
magistrate  obliged  the  patron  to  be  evidence  against  his  client, 
or  the  client  against  his  patron.  But  in  after-times,  though 
the  other  claims  continued  in  full  force,  it  was  looked  upon  as 
ungenerous  for  persons  of  condition  to  take  money  of  those 
below  them. 

In  the  fourth  month  after  the  building  of  the  city,t  as  Fa 
bius  informs  us,  the  rape  of  the  Sabine  women  was  put  in  exe¬ 
cution.  Some  say,  Romulus  himself,  who  was  naturally  war¬ 
like,  and  persuaded  by  certain  oracles,  that  the  Fates  had  de¬ 
creed  Rome  to  obtain  her  greatness  by  military  achievements, 
began  hostilities  against  the  Sabines,  and  seized  only  thirty 
virgins,  being  more  desirous  of  war  than  of  wives  for  his  peo¬ 
ple.  But  this  is  not  likely;  for,  as  he  saw  his  city  soon  filled 

*  This  patronage  was  as  effectual  as  any  consanguinity  or  alliance,  and 
had  a  wonderful  effect  towards  maintaining  union  among  the  people  for  the 
space  of  six  hundred  and  twenty  years,  during  which  time  we  find  no  dis¬ 
sensions  or  jealousies  between  the  patrons  and  their  clients,  even  in  the  time 
of  the  republic,  when  the  populace  frequently  mutinied  against  those  who 
were  most  powerful  in  the  city.  At  last  the  great  sedition  raised  by  Caius 
Gracchus,  broke  in  upon  that  harmony.  Indeed,  a  client  who  was  wanting 
in  his  duty  to  his  patron,  was  deemed  a  traitor  ^nd  an  outlaw,  and  liable  tc 
be  put  to  death  by  any  person  whatever.  It  may  be  proper  to  observe, 
that  not  only  plebeians  chose  their  patrons,  but  in  time  cities  and  states  pul 
themselves  under  the  like  protection. 

f  Gellius  savs,  it  was  in  the  fourth  rear. 

8 


70 


ROMCLUS. 


with  inhabitants,  very  few  of  which  were  married,  the  great* 
est  part  consisting  of  a  mixed  rabble  of  mean  and  obscure  per 
sons,  to  whom  no  regard  was  paid,  and  who  were  not  expect 
mg  to  settle  in  any  place  whatever,  the  enterprise  naturally 
took  that  turn;  and  he  hoped  that  from  this  attempt,  though 
not  a  just  one,  some  alliance  and  union  with  the  Sabines  would 
be  obtained,  when  it  appeared  that  they  treated  the  women 
kindly.  In  order  to  this,  he  first  gave  out  that  he  had  found 
the  altar  of  some  god,  which  had  been  covered  with  earth. 
This  deity  they  called  Consus,  meaning  either  the  God  of 
Counsel  (for  with  them  the  word  consilium  has  that  significa¬ 
tion,  and  their  chief  magistrates  afterwards  were  Consuls,  per 
sons  who  were  to  consult  the  public  good )9  or  else  the  Eques¬ 
trian  Neptune;  for  the  altar  in  the  Circus  Maximus*  is  not 
visible  at  other  times,  but  during  the  Circensian  games  it  is 
uncovered.  Some  say,  it  was  proper  that  the  altar  of  that  god 
should  be  under  ground,  because  counsel  should  be  as  private 
and  secret  as  possible.  Upon  this  discovery,  Romulus,  by 
proclamation,  appointed  a  day  for  a  splendid  sacrifice,  with 
public  games  and  shows.  Multitudes  assembled  at  the  time, 
and  he  liimself  presided,  sitting  among  his  nobles,  clothed  in 

Eurple.  As  a  signal  for  the  assault,  he  was  to  rise,  gather  up 
is  robe,  and  fold  it  about  him.  Many  of  his  people  wore 
swords  that  day,  and  kept  their  eyes  upon  him,  watching  for 
the  signal;  which  was  no  sooner  given  than  they  drew  them, 
and,  rushing  on  with  a  shout,  seized  the  daughters  of  the  Sa¬ 
bines,  but  quietly  suffered  the  men  to  escape.  Some  say  only 
thirty  were  carried  off,  who  each  gave  name  to  a  tribe;  but 
Valerius  Antius  makes  their  number  five  hundred  and  twenty- 
seven;  and,  according  to  Juba,t  there  were  six  hundred  and 
eighty-three,  all  virgins.  This  was  the  best  apology  for  Ro¬ 
mulus;  for  they  had  taken  but  one  married  woman,  named 
Hersilia,  who  was  afterwards  chiefly  concerned  in  reconciling 
them;  and  her  they  took  by  mistake,  as  they  were  not  incited 
to  this  violence  by  lust  or  injustice,  but  by  their  desire  to  con¬ 
ciliate  and  unite  the  two  nations  in  the  strongest  ties.  Some 
tell  us  Hersilia  was  married  to  Hostilius,  one  of  the  most 
eminent  men  among  the  Romans;  others,  that  Romulus  him¬ 
self  married  her,  and  had  two  children  by  her;  a  daughter 
named  Prima,  on  account  of  her  being  first-born,  and  an  only 
son,  whom  he  called  Aollius,  because  of  the  great  concourse 

*  That  is  to  say,  in  the  ]  lace  where  Ancus  Martius  afterwards  built  the 
gTeat  Circus  for  horse  and  cnariot  races. 

f  This  was  the  son  of  Juba,  king*  of  Mauritania,  who,  being*  brought  very 
young*  a  captive  to  Rome,  was  instructed  in  the  Roman  and  Grecian  litera* 
ture,  and  became  an  excellent  hii^pdan.  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  has 
Allowed  his  account. 


ROMULUS. 


71 


of  people  to  him,  but  after-ages  Abillius.  This  account  we 
have  from  Zenodotus  of  Troezene,  but  he  is  contradicted  in  it 
by  many  other  historians. 

Among  those  that  committed  this  rape,  we  are  told,  some  of 
the  meaner  sort  happened  to  be  carrying  off  a  virgin  of  uncom  • 
mon  beauty  and  stature;  and  when  some  of  superior  rank  that 
met  them  attempted  to  take  her  from  them,  they  cried  out  they 
were  conducting  her  to  Talasius,  a  young  man  of  excellent 
character.  When  they  heard  this,  they  applauded  their  design; 
and  some  even  turned  back  and  accompanied  them  with  the 
utmost  satisfaction,  all  the  way  exclaiming  Talasius.  Hence 
this  became  a  term  in  the  nuptial  songs  of  the  Romans,  as 
Hymenseus  is  in  those  of  the  Greeks;  for  Talasius  is  said  to 
have  been  very  happy  in  marriage.  But  Sextius  Sylla,  the 
Carthaginian,  a  man  beloved  both  by  the  Muses  and  Graces, 
told  me,  that  this  was  the  word  which  Romulus  gave  as  a  sig¬ 
nal  for  the  rape.  All  of  them,  therefore,  as  they  were  carry¬ 
ing  off  the  virgins,  cried  out  Talasius;  and  thence  it  still  con¬ 
tinues  the  custom  at  marriages.  Most  writers,  however,  and 
Juba  in  particular,  are  of  opinion,  that  it  is  only  an  incite¬ 
ment  to  good  housewifery  and  spinning,  which  the  word  Ta - 
lasia  signifies;  Italian  terms  being  at  that  time  thus  mixed  with 
Greek.  *  If  this  be  right,  and  the  Romans  did  then  use  the 

*  The  original,  which  runs  thus,  O/  tTg  orxg/?To/  no it  o  loj2*c  s;t/, 

TTcLpsuttoo-tv  tivcii  it;  <ptXipytctv  Kctt  •ra.XctG-tcLv,  X7ru>  tots  to/?  Exxmtx.01;  ovo/uckti  tg>v 
It nxtxMv  i7nM%i>/uimv,  is  manifestly  corrupted;  and  all  the  former  translations, 
following  corrupt  reading,  assert  what  is  utterly  false,  namely, — “  that  no 
Greek  terms  were  then  mixed  with  the  language  of  Italy.”  The  contrary 
appears  from  Plutarch’s  life  of  Numa,  where  Greek  terms  are  mentioned  as 
frequently  used  by  the  Romans,  t m  Exxwutocv  ovo/ucirav  tots  /ua.xxov  n  v’jv  to/c 
Acltivoi ?  ety^xsxpfit^svav. 

But,  not  to  have  recourse  to  facts,  let  us  inquire  into  the  several  former 
translations.  The  Latin  runs  thus: — Plerique  ( inter  quos  est  Juba J  adhorla- 
tionem  et  incitationem  ad  laboris  sedulitatem  et  lanijicium,  quod  Grasci  t* xcto-tzv 
dicunt ,  censent,  nondurn  id  temporis  Italicis  verbis  cum  Graecis  confusis.  The 
English  thus: — “  But  most  are  of  opinion,  and  Juba  in  particular,  that  this 
word  Talasius  was  used  to  new-married  women,  by  way  of  incitement  to 
housewifery;  for  the  Greek  word  Talasia  signifies  spinning ,  and  the  lan¬ 
guage  of  Italy  was  not  yet  mixed  with  the  Greek.”  The  French  of  Dacier 
thus — “  Cependant  la  plupart  des  auteurs  croient,  et  Juba  est  meme  de 
cette  opinion,  que  ce  mot  n’etoit  qu’une  exhortation  qu’on  faisoit  aux  ma- 
riees  d’aimer  le  travail,  qui  consiste  a  filer  de  la  laine,  que  les  Grecs  appel- 
lent  Talasia;  car  ce  tems-la  la  langue  Grecque  n’avoit  pas  encore  ete  cor- 
rumpue  par  les  mots  Latins.”  Thus  they  declare  with  one  consent,  that 
the  language  of  Italy  was  not  yet  mixed  with  the  Greek;  though  it  ap¬ 
peal’s,  from  what  was  said  immediately  before,  that  Talasia ,  a  Greek  term, 
was  made  use  of  in  that  language.  Instead,  therefore  of  htto,  not  yet,  we 
should  most  certainly  read  *to,  thus:  sr o  tots  to/?  Exxuvtjtot;  ovo/ucirt  t a>v  lruxuto)' 
iTrui^y/xivccv,  “  the  language  of  Italy  being  at  that  time  thus  mixed  with 
Greek  terms;  for  instance,  Talasia .”  By  this  emendation,  which  consist* 


72 


ROMULUS. 


word  Talasia  in  the  same  sense  with  the  Creeks,  another  and 
more  probable  reason  of  the  custom  may  be  assigned.  For 
vvnen  the  Sabines,  after  the  war  with  the  Romans,  were  re¬ 
conciled,  conditions  were  obtained  for  the  women,  that  they 
should  not  be  obliged  by  their  husbands  to  do  any  other  work 
besides  spinning.  It  was  customary,  therefore,  ever  after,  that 
they  who  gave  the  bride,  or  conducted  her  home,  or  were  pre¬ 
sent  on  the  occasion,  should  cry  out,  amidst  the  mirth  of  the 
wedding,  Talasius ;  intimating  that  she  was  not  to  be  employed 
in  any  labour  but  that  of  spinning.  And  it  is  a  custom  still 
observed  for  the  bride  not  to  go  over  the  threshold  of  her  hus¬ 
band’s  house  herself,  but  to  be  carried  over,  because  the  Sabine 
virgins  did  not  go  in  voluntarily,  but  were  carried  in  by  vio¬ 
lence.  Some  add,  that  the  bride’s  hair  is  parted  with  the 
point  of  a  spear,  in  memory  of  the  first  marriages  being 
brought  about  in  a  warlike  manner;  of  which  we  have  spoken 
more  fully  in  the  Book  of  Questions.  This  rape  was  commit¬ 
ted  on  the  eighteenth  day  of  the  month  then  called  Sextilis, 
now  August,  at  which  time  the  feast  of  the  Consualia  is  kept. 

The  Sabines  were  a  numerous  and  warlike  people,  but  they 
dwelt  in  un walled  towns;  thinking  it  became  them,  who  were 
a  colony  of  the  Lacedaemonians,  to  be  bold  and  fearless.  But 
as  they  saw  themselves  bound  by  such  pledges,  and  were  very 
solicitous  for  their  daughters,  they  sent  ambassadors  to  Romu¬ 
lus  with  moderate  and  equitable  demands;  that  he  should  re¬ 
turn  them  the  young  women,  and  disavow  the  violence,  and 
then  the  two  nations  should  proceed  to  establish  a  correspon¬ 
dence,  and  contract  alliances  in  a  friendly  and  legal  way. 
Romulus,  however,  refused  to  part  with  the  young  women, 
and  entreated  the  Sabines  to  give  their  sanction  to  what  had 
been  done;  whereupon  some  of  them  lost  time  in  consulting 
and  making  preparations.  But  Acron,  king  of  the  Ceninen- 
sians,  a  man  of  spirit,  and  an  able  general,  suspected  the  ten¬ 
dency  of  Romulus’s  first  enterprises;  and,  when  he  had  be¬ 
haved  so  boldly  in  the  rape,  looked  upon  him  as  one  that 
w;uld  grow  formidable,  and  indeed  insufferable  to  his  neigh- 

only  of  the  small  alteration  of  the  7r  into  t,  the  sense  is  easy;  the  context 
clear;  Plutarch  is  reconciled  to  himself,  and  freed  from  the  charge  of  con¬ 
tradicting*  in  one  breath  what  he  had  asserted  in  another. 

If  this  wanted  any  other  support,  we  might  allege  a  passage  from  Plu¬ 
tarch’s  Marcellus,  which,  as  well  as  that  in  the  life  of  Numa,  is  express  and 
decisive.  Speaking  there  of  the  derivation  of  the  word  Feretrius ,  an  ap¬ 
pellation  which  Jupiter  probably  first  had  in  the  time  of  Romulus,  on  occa¬ 
sion  of  his  consecrating  to  him  the  spolia  opima ,  one  account  he  gives  of 
the  matter  is,  that  Feretrius  might  be  derived  from  <pt£trf>ov,  the  vehicle  on 
which  the  trophy  was  carried,  xxru.  <thv  *E xk'iviS'cl  yxaxro-ctv  it t  Troxxar  toti 
ruuyi/ury/umv  Aetnwv;  “  for  at  that  time  the  Greek  language  was  mu-ih 
mixed  with  the  Latin.” 


ROMUI  ITS. 


73 

hours,  except  he  were  chastised.  Acron,  therefore,  went  to 
seek  the  enemy,  and  Romulus  prepared  to  receive  him. 
When  they  came  in  sight,  and  had  well  viewed  each  other,  a 
challenge  for  a  single  combat  was  mutually  given,  their  forces 
standing  under  arms  in  silence.  Romulus  on  this  occasion 
made  a  vow,  that  if  he  conquered  his  enemy,  he  would  him¬ 
self  dedicate  his  adversary’s  arms  to  Jupiter.  In  consequence 
of  which,  he  both  overcame  Acron,  and,  after  battle  was  join¬ 
ed,  routed  his  army  and  took  his  city;  but  he  did  no  injury  to 
its  inhabitants,  unless  it  were  such  to  order  them  to  demol¬ 
ish  their  houses,  and  follow  him  to  Rome,  as  citizens  entitled 
to  equal  privileges  with  the  rest.  Indeed,  there  was  nothing 
that  contributed  more  to  the  greatness  of  Rome,  than  that 
she  was  always  uniting  and  incorporating  with  herself  those 
whom  she  conquered.  Romulus  having  considered  how  he 
should  perform  his  vow  in  the  most  acceptable  manner  to  Ju¬ 
piter,  and  withal  make  the  procession  most  agreeable  to  his 
people,  cut  down  a  great  oak  that  grew  in  the  camp,  and 
hewed  it  into  the  figure  of  a  trophy;  to  this  he  fastened 
Acron’s  whole  suit  of  armour,  disposed  in  its  proper  form; 
then  he  put  on  his  own  robes,  and  wearing  a  crown  of  laurel 
on  his  head,  his  hair  gracefully  flowing,  he  took  the  trophy 
erect  upon  his  right  shoulder,  and  so  marched  on,  singing  the 
song  of  victory  before  his  troops,  which  followed,  completely 
armed,  while  the  citizens  received  him  with  joy  and  admira¬ 
tion.  This  procession  was  the  origin  and  model  of  future 
triumphs.  The  trophy  was  dedicated  to  Jupiter  Feretrius, 
so  called  from  the  Latin  word  ferxre to  smite;  for  Romulus 
had  prayed  that  he  might  have  power  to  smite  his  adversary, 
and  kill  him.  Varro  says,  this  sort  of  spoils  is  termed  opima, t 
from  opes ,  which  signifies  riches;  but  more  probably  they  are 
so  styled  from  opus ,  the  meaning  of  which  is  action;  for  when 
the  general  of  an  army  kills  the  enemy’s  general  with  his 
own  hand,  then  only  he  is  allowed  to  consecrate  the  spoils 
called  opima ,  as  the  sole  performer  of  that  action.  +  This  ho 

*  Or  from  the  word  ferre,  to  earn/ ,  because  Romulus  had  himself  carried 
to  the  temple  of  Jupiter  the  armour  of  the  king  he  had  killed;  or,  more 
probably,  from  the  Greek  word  pheretron ,  which  Livy  calls  in  Latin  ferculum, 
and  which  properly  signifies  a  tropin/. 

f  Festus  derives  the  word  opima  from  ops ,  which  signifies  the  earth,  and 
the  riches  it  produces;  so  that  opima  spulia ,  according  to  that  writer,  signify 
rich  spoils. 

+  This  is  Livy’s  account  of  the  matter;  but  Varro,  as  quoted  by  Festus, 
tells  us,  a  Roman  might  be  entitled  to  the  spolia  opima ,  though  but  a  pri¬ 
vate  soldier,  miles  manipularis ,  provided  he  killed  and  despoiled  the 
enemy’s  general.  Accordingly,  Cornelius  Cossus  had  them  for  killing  To- 
lumnius,  king  of  the  Tuscans,  though  Cossus  was  but  a  tribune,  who 
fought  under  the  command  of  JEmilius.  Cossus,  therefore,  in  all  probabili* 

Vo  .,  t. - M  S* 


74 


ROMULUS. 


nour  nas  been  conferred  only  on  three  Roman  chiefs;  first,  on 
Romulus,  when  he  slew  Acron  the  Ceninensian;  next,  on 
Cornelius  Cossus,  for  killing Tolumnius  the  Tuscan;  and  last¬ 
ly,  on  Claudius  Marcellus,  when  Viridomarus,  king  of  the 
Gauls,  fell  by  his  hand.  Cossus  and  Marcellus  bore,  indeed, 
the  trophies  themselves,  but  drove  into  Rome  in  triumphal 
chariots.  But  Dionysius  is  mistaken  in  saying  that  Romulus 
made  use  of  a  chariot;  for  some  historians  assert,  that  Tarqui- 
nius,  the  son  of  Demaratus,  was  the  first  of  the  kings  that  ad¬ 
vanced  triumphs  to  this  pomp  and  grandeur.  Others  say, 
Publicola  was  the  first  that  led  up  his  triumph  in  a  chariot. 
However,  there  are  statues  of  Romulus  bearing  these  trophies 
yet  to  be  seen  in  Rome,  which  are  all  on  foot. 

After  the  defeat  of  the  Ceninenses,  while  the  rest  of  the  Sa¬ 
bines  were  busied  in  preparations,  the  people  of  Fidenae, 
Crustumenium,  and  Antemnae,  united  against  the  Romans.  A 
battle  ensued,  in  which  they  were  likewise  defeated,  and  sur¬ 
rendered  to  Romulus  their  cities  to  be  spoiled,  their  lands  to 
be  divided,  and  themselves  to  be  transplanted  to  Rome.  All 
the  lands  thus  acquired  he  distributed  among  the  citizens,  ex¬ 
cept  what  belonged  to  the  parents  of  the  stolen  virgins;  for 
those  he  left  in  the  possession  of  their  former  owners.  The 
rest  of  the  Sabines,  enraged  at  this,  appointed  Tatius  their 
general,  and  carried  war  to  the  gates  of  Rome.  The  city 
was  difficult  of  access,  having  a  strong  garrison  on  the  hill 
where  the  Capitol  now  stands,  commanded  by  Tarpeius,  not 
by  the  virgin  Tarpeia,  as  some  say,  who  in  this  represent  Ro¬ 
mulus  as  a  very  weak  man.  However,  this  Tarpeia,  the  go¬ 
vernor’s  daughter;  charmed  with  the  golden  bracelets  of  the 
Sabines,  betrayed  the  fort  into  their  hands,  and  asked,  in  re¬ 
turn  for  her  treason,  what  they  wore  on  their  left  arms.  Ta 
tius  agreeing  to  the  condition,  she  opened  one  of  the  gates  by 
night,  and  let  in  the  Sabines.  It  seems  it  was  not  the  senti¬ 
ment  of  Antigonus  alone,  who  said, — “He  loved  men  while 
they  were  betraying,  but  hated  them  when  they  had  betray¬ 
ed;”  nor  of  Caesar,  who  said,  in  the  case  of  Rhymitalces  the 
Thracian, — “He  loved  the  treason,  but  hated  the  traitor:” 
but  men  are  commonly  affected  towards  villains,  whom  they 
have  occasion  for,  just  as  they  are  towards  venomous  crea¬ 
tures,  which  they  have  need  of  for  their  poison  and  their  gall. 
While  they  are  of  use  they  love  them,  but  abhor  them  when 
their  purpose  is  effected.  Such  were  the  sentiments  of  Tatius 
with  regard  to  Tarpeia,  when  he  ordered  the  Sabines  to  re¬ 
member  their  promise,  and  to  grudge  her  nothing  which  they 


ly,  did  not  enter  Rome  in  a  triumphal  chariot,  but  followed  that  of  t  is 
general,  with  the  trophy  on  his  shoulder. 


ROMULUS. 


7  5 


had  on  their  left  arms.  He  was  the  first  to  take  off  his  brace¬ 
let,  and  throw  it  to  her,  and  with  that  his  shield.*  As  every 
one  did  the  same,  she  was  overpowered  by  the  gold  and 
shields  thrown  upon  her,  and,  sinking  under  the  weight,  ex- 

fured.  Tarpeius,  too,  was  taken,  and  condemned  by  Romu- 
us  for  treason,  as  Juba  writes  after  Sulpitius  Galba.  As  for 
the  account  given  of  Tarpeia  by  other  writers,  among  whom 
Antigonus  is  one,  it  is  absurd  and  incredible.  They  say,  that 
she  was  daughter  to  Tatius  the  Sabine  general,  and  being  com¬ 
pelled  to  live  with  Romulus,  she  acted  and  suffered  thus  by 
her  father’s  contrivance.  But  the  poet  Simulus  makes  a  most 
egregious  blunder,  when  he  says,  Tarpeia  betraying  the  Capi¬ 
tol,  not  to  the  Sabines,  but  to  the  Gauls,  having  fallen  in  love 
with  their  king.  Thus  he  writes: — 

From  her  high  dome,  Tarpeia,  wretched  maid. 

To  the  fell  Gauls  the  Capitol  betray’d; 

The  hapless  victim  of  unchaste  desires, 

.She  lost  the  fortress  of  her  sceptred  sires. 

And  a  little  after  concerning  her  death, 

No  amorous  Celt,  no  fierce  barbarian  bore 
The  fair  Tarpeia  to  his  stormy  shore; 

Press’d  by  those  shields,  whose  splendour  she  admir’d. 

She  sunk,  and  in  the  shining  death  expir’d. 


From  the  place  where  Tarpeia  was  buried,  the  hill  had  the 
name  of  the  Tarpeian,  till  Tarquin  consecrated  the  place  to 
Jupiter,  at  which  time  her  bones  were  removed,  and  so  it  lost 
her  name,  except  that  part  of  the  Capitol  from  which  male¬ 
factors  are  thrown  down,  which  is  still  called  the  Tarpeian 
rock.  The  Sabines  thus  possessed  of  the  fort,  Romulus  in 
great  fury  offered  them  battle,  which  Tatius  did  not  decline, 
as  he  saw  he  had  a  place  of  strength  to  retreat  to  in  case  he 
was  worsted;  and,  indeed  the  spot  on  which  he  was  to  engage 
being  surrounded  with  hills,  seemed  to  promise  on  both  sides 
a  sharp  and  bloody  contest,  because  it  was  so  confined,  and  the 
outlets  were  so  narrow,  that  it  was  not  easy  either  to  fly  or  to 
pursue.  It  happened,  too,  that,  a  few  days  before,  the  river 
had  overflowed,  and  left  a  deep  mud  on  the  plain*  where  the 
forum  now  stands,  which,  as  it  was  covered  with  a  crust,  was 
not  easily  discoverable  by  the  eye,  but  at  the  same  time  was 
soft  underneath,  and  impracticable.  The  Sabines,  ignorant 

*  Piso  and  other  historians  say,  that  Tatius  treated  her  in  this  manner,  be¬ 
cause  she  acted  a  double  part,  and  endeavoured  to  betray  the  Sabines  to 
Romulus,  while  she  was  pretending  to  betray  the  Romans  to  them. 


7G 


ROMULUS. 


of  this,  were  pushing  forward  into  it,  but  by  good  fortune 
were  prevented;  for  Curtius,  a  man  of  high  distinction  and 
spirit,  being  mounted  on  a  good  horse,  advanced  a  considera¬ 
ble  way  before  the  rest.  *  Presently  his  horse  plunged  into  the 
slough,  and  for  a  while  he  endeavoured  to  disengage  him,  en¬ 
couraging  him  with  his  voice,  and  urging  him  with  blows;  but 
finding  ail  ineffectual,  he  quitted  him,  and  saved  himself. 
From  him  the  place  to  this  very  time  is  called  the  Curtian  lake. 
The  Sabines,  having  escaped  this  danger,  began  the  fight  with 
great  bravery.  The  victory  inclined  to  neither  side,  though 
many  were  slain,  and  among  the  rest  Hostilius,  who,  they 
say,  was  husband  to  Hersilia,  and  grandfather  to  that  Hosti 
lius  who  reigned  after  Numa.  It  is  probable  there  were  many 
other  battles  in  a  short  time;  but  the  most  memorable  was  the 
last,  in  which  Romulus  having  received  a  blow  upon  the  head 
with  a  stone,  was  almost  beaten  down  to  the  ground,  and  no 
longer  able  to  oppose  the  enemy;  then  the  Romans  gave  way, 
and  were  driven  from  the  plain  as  far  as  the  Palatine  hill.  By 
this  time  Romulus,  recovering  from  the  shock,  endeavoured 
by  force  to  stop  his  men  in  their  flight,  and  loudly  called  up 
on  them  to  stand  and  renew  the  engagement;  but  when  he  saw 
the  rout  was  general,  and  that  no  one  had  courage  to  face 
about,  he  lifted  up  his  hands  towards  heaven,  and  prayed 
to  Jupiter  to  stop  the  army,  and  to  re-establish  and  maintain 
the  Roman  cause,  which  was  now  in  extreme  danger.  When 
the  prayer  ended,  many  of  the  fugitives  were  struck  with  re¬ 
verence  for  their  king,  and  their  fear  was  changed  into  cou¬ 
rage.  They  first  stopped,  where  now  stands  the  temple  of 
Jupiter  Stator,  so  called,  from  his  putting  a  stop  to  their  flight. 
There  they  engaged  again,  and  repulsed  the  Sabines  as  far  as 
the  palace  now  called  Regia,  and  the  temple  of  Vesta. 

When  they  were  preparing  here  to  renew  the  combat,  with 
the  same  animosity  as  at  first,  their  ardour  was  repressed  by 
an  astonishing  spectacle,  which  the  powers  of  language  are 

*  Livy  and  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  relate  the  matter  otherwise.  They 
tell  us,  that  Curtius  at  first  repulsed  the  Romans;  but  being*  in  his  turn  over¬ 
powered  by  Romulus,  and  endeavouring*  to  make  g*ood  his  retreat,  he  hap¬ 
pened  to  fall  into  the  lake,  which  from  that  time  bore  his  name;  for  it  was 
called  Lacus  Curtius,  even  when  it  was  dried  up,  and  almost  in  the  centre 
of  the  Roman  forum.  Procilius  says,  that  the  earth  having*  opened,  the 
Aruspices  declared  it  necessary,  for  the  safety  of  the  republic,  that  the 
oravest  man  in  the  city  should  throw  himself  into  the  g*ulf;  whereupon  one 
Curtius,  mounting*  on  horseback,  leaped  (armed)  into  it,  and  the  gulf  im¬ 
mediately  closed.  Before  the  building  of  the  common  sewers,  this  pool  was 
a  sort  of  sink,  which  received  all  the  filth  of  the  city.  Some  writers  tliink 
that  it  received  its  name  from  Curtius  the  consul,  colleague  to  M.  Genucius, 
because  he  caused  it  to  be  walled  in,  by  the  advice  of  the  Aruspices,  after 
it  had  been  struck  with  lightning  Yarro  de  Ling.  Lat.  1.  iv. 


ROMULUS. 


7 


unable  to  describe.  The  daughters  ot  the  Sabines,  that  had 
been  forcibly  carried  off,  appeared  rushing  this  way  and  that, 
with  loud  cries  and  lamentations,  like  persons  distracted, 
amidst  the  drawn  swords,  and  over  the  dead  bodies,  to  come 
at  their  husbands  and  fathers;  some  carrying  their  infants  in 
their  arms,  some  darting  forward,  with  dishevelled  hair,  but 
all  calling,  by  turns,  both  upon  the  Sabines  and  the  Romans 
by  the  tenderest  names.  Both  parties  were  extremely  moved, 
and  room  was  made  for  them  between  the  two  armies.  Their 
lamentations  pierced  to  the  utmost  ranks,  and  all  were  deep¬ 
ly  affected,  particularly,  when  their  upbraiding  and  complaints 
ended  in  supplication  and  entreaty. — “  What  great  injury  have 
we  done  you,”  said  they,  66  that  we  have  suffered,  and  do  still 
suffer,  so  many  miseries?  We  were  carried  off  by  those  who 
now  have  us  violently  and  illegally ;  after  this  violence  we  were 
so  long  neglected  by  our  brothers,  our  fathers,  and  relations, 
that  we  were  necessitated  to  unite  in  the  strongest  ties  with 
those  that  were  the  objects  of  our  hatred;  and  we  are  now 
brought  to  tremble  for  the  men  that  had  injured  us  so  much 
when  we  see  them  in  danger,  and  to  lament  them  when  they 
fall;  for  you  came  not  to  deliver  us  from  violence,  while  vir¬ 
gins,  or  to  avenge  our  cause,  but  now  you  tear  the  wives  from 
their  husbands,  and  the  mothers  from  their  children;  an  assist¬ 
ance  more  grievous  to  us  than  all  your  neglect  and  disregard. 
Such  love  we  experienced  from  them,  and  such  compassion 
from  you.  Were  the  war  undertaken  in  some  other  cause, 
yet  surely  you  would  stop  its  ravages  for  us,  who  have  made 
you  fathers-in-law  and  grandfathers,  or  otherwise  placed  you 
in  some  near  affinity  to  those  whom  you  seek  to  destroy;  but 
:f  the  war  be  for  us,  take  us,  with  your  sons-in-law  and  their 
children,  and  restore  us  to  our  parents  and  kindred;  but  do 
not,  we  beseech  you,  rob  us  of  our  children  and  husbands,  lest 
we  become  captives  again.”  Hersilia  having  said  a  great 
deal  to  this  purpose,  and  others  joining  in  the  same  request, 
a  truce  was  agreed  upon,  and  the  generals  proceeded  to  a  con¬ 
ference.  In  the  meantime,  the  women  presented  their  hus¬ 
bands  and  children  to  their  fathers  and  brothers,  brought  re¬ 
freshments  to  those  that  wanted  them,  and  carried  the  wound¬ 
ed  home  to  be  cured.  Here  they  showed  them,  that  they  had 
the  ordering  of  their  own  houses,  what  attentions  their  hus¬ 
bands  paid  them,  and  with  what  respect  and  indulgence  they 
were  treated.  Upon  this  a  peace  was  concluded,  the  condi¬ 
tions  of  which ‘were,  that  such  of  the  women  as  chose  to  re¬ 
main  with  their  husbands,  should  be  exempt  from  all  labour 
and  drudgery,  except  spinning,  as  we  have  mentioned  above; 
that  the  city  should  be  inhabited  by  the  Romans  and  Sabines, 
in  common,  with  the  name  of  Rome,  from  Romulus;  but  ilia* 


78 


ROMULUS. 


all  the  citizens,  from  Cures,  the  capital  of  the  Sabines,  and  the 
country  of  Tatius,  should  be  called  Quirites;'*  and  that  the 
regal  power,  and  the  command  of  the  army,  should  be 
equally  shared  between  them.  The  place  where  these  articles 
were  ratified,  is  still  called  Comitium,t  from  the  Latin  word 
coire ,  which  signifies  to  assemble . 

The  city  having  doubled  the  number  of  its  inhabitants,  a 
hundred  additional  senators  were  elected  from  among  the  Sa¬ 
bines,  and  the  legions  were  to  consist  of  six  thousand  foot,  and 
six  hundred  horse.  %  The  people,  too,  were  divided  into 
three  tribes,  called  Rhamnenses,  from  Romulus;  Tatienses, 
from  Tatius;  and  Lucerenses,  from  the  Lucus  or  Grove,  where 
the  asylum  stood,  whither  many  had  fled,  and  were  admit 
ted  citizens.  That  they  were  precisely  three,  appears  from 
the  very  name  of  Tribes,  and  that  of  their  chief  officers,  who 
were  called  Tribunes.  'Each  tribe  contained  ten  Curias ,  or 
wards,  which  some  say  were  called  after  the  Sabine  women. 
But  this  seems  to  be  false,  for  many  of  them  have  their  names 
from  the  several  quarters  of  the  city  which  were  assigned  to 
them.  Many  honourable  privileges,  however,  were  confer¬ 
red  upon  the  women;  some  of  which  were  these:  that  the  men 
should  give  them  the  way,  wherever  they  met  them;  that 
they  should  not  mention  an  obscene  word,  or  appear  naked, 
before  them;  that,  in  case  of  their  killing  any  person,  they 
should  not  be  tried  before  the  ordinary  judges;  and  that  theii 

*  The  word  Quins ,  in  the  Sabine  language,  signified  both  a  dart,  and  a 
warlike  deity  armed  with  a  dart.  It  is  uncertain  whether  the  god  gave 
name  to  the  dart,  or  the  dart  to  the  god;  but  however  that  be,  this  god 
Quiris  or  Quirinus,  was  either  Mars,  or  some  other  god  of  war,  and  was  wor¬ 
shipped  in  Rome  till  Romulus,  who,  after  his  death,  was  honoured  with  the 
name  Quirinus,  took  his  place. 

t  The  Comitium  was  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  Palatinus,  over-against  the 
Capitol.  Not  far  from  thence  the  two  kings  built  the  temple  of  Vulcan, 
where  they  usually  met  to  consult  the  senate  about  the  most  important  af¬ 
fairs. 

+  Ruauld,  in  his  animadversions  upon  Plutarch,  has  discovered  two  con¬ 
siderable  errors  in  this  place.  The  first  is,  that  Plutarch  affirms  there 
were  six  hundred  horse  put  by  Romulus  in  every  legion;  whe.reas  there 
never  were,  at  any  time,  so  many  in  any  of  the  legions.  For  there  were  at 
first  two  hundred  horse  in  each  legion;  after  that,  they  rose  to  three  hun¬ 
dred,  and  at  last  to  four  hundred,  but  never  came  up  to  hundred.  In 
the  second  place,  he  tells  us,  that  Romulus  made  the  legion  to  consist  ct  six 
thousand  foot:  whereas,  in  his  time,  it  was  never  more  than  three  thousand. 
11  is  said  by  some,  that  Marius  was  the  first  who  raised  the  legion  to  six 
thousand;  but  Livy  informs  us,  that  that  augmentation  was  made  by  Scipio 
\fricanus,  long  before  Marius.  After  the  expulsion  of  the  kings,  it  was 
augmented  from  three  to  four  thousand,  and  some  time  after  to  five,  and  at 
last  by  Scipio  (as  we  have  said)  to  six.  But  this  was  never  done  but  upon 
pressing  occasions.  The  stated  force  of  a  legion  was  four  thousand  foot, 
and  two  hundred  horse. 


ROMULUS. 


79 


children  should  wear  an  ornament  about  their  necks,  called 
Bulla,*  from  its  likeness  to  a  bubble,  and  a  garment  bordered 
with  purple.  The  two  kings  did  not  presently  unite  their 
councils,  each  meeting,  for  some  time,  their  hundred  senators 
apart;  but  afterwards  they  all  assembled  together.  Tatius  dwelt 
where  the  temple  of  Moneta  now  stands,  and  Romulus  by  the 
Steps  of  the  Fair  Shore,  as  they  are  called,  at  the  descent  from 
the  Palatine  hill  to  the  Great  Circus.  There,  we  are  told, 
grew  the  sacred  Cornel-tree,  the  fabulous  account  of  which  is, 
that  Romulus  once,  to  try  his  strength,  threw  a  spear,  whose 
shaft  was  of  cornel-wood,  from  Mount  Aventine  to  that  place; 
the  head  of  which  stuck  so  deep  in  the  ground,  that  no  one 
could  pull  it  out,  though  many  tried;  and  the  soil  being  rich, 
so  nourished  the  wood,  that  it  shot  forth  branches,  and  became 
a  trunk  of  cornel,  of  considerable  bigness.  This  posterity 
preserved  with  a  religious  care,  as  a  thing  eminently  sacred, 
and,  therefore,  built  a  wall  about  it;  and  when  any  one  that 
approached  it,  saw  it  not  very  flourishing  and  green,  but  in¬ 
clining  to  fade  and  wither,  he  presently  proclaimed  it  to  all  he 
met,  who,  as  if  they  were  to  assist  in  case  of  fire,  cried  out 
for  water,  and  ran  from  all  quarters  with  full  vessels  to  the 
place.  But  when  Caius  Ccesar  ordered  the  steps  to  be  repair¬ 
ed,  and  the  workmen  were  digging  near  it,  it  is  said,  they  in¬ 
advertently  injured  the  roots  in  such  a  manner,  that  the  tree 
withered  away. 

The  Sabines  received  the  Roman  months.  All  that  is  of 
importance  on  this  subject  is  mentioned  in  the  life  of  Numa. 
Romulus,  on  the  other  hand,  came  into  the  use  of  their  shields, 
making  an  alteration  in  his  own  armour,  and  that  of  the  Ro¬ 
mans,  who  before  wore  bucklers  in  the  manner  of  the  Greeks. 
They  mutually  celebrated  each  other’s  feasts  and  sacrifices, 
not  abolishing  those  of  either  nation,  but  over  and  above  ap¬ 
pointing  some  new  ones;  one  of  which  is  the  Matronalia,t 

*  The  young1  men,  when  they  took  upon  them  the  Toga  virilis ,  or  man’s 
robe,  quitted  the  Bulla ,  which  is  supposed  to  have  been  a  little  hollow  ball 
of  g*old,  and  made  an  offering1  of  it  to  the  Dii  Lares ,  or  household  g*ods.  As 
to  the  Praelexta ,  or  robe  edg*ed  with  purple,  it  was  worn  by  girls,  till  their 
marriag-e,  and  by  boys,  till  they  were  seventeen.  But  what  in  the  time  of 
Romulus  was  a  mark  of  distinction  for  the  children  of  the  Sabine  women, 
became  afterwards  very  common;  for  even  the  children  of  the  Liberti ,  or 
freedmen,  wore  it. 

-(  During1  this  feast,  such  of  the  Roman  women  as  were  married,  served 
their  slaves  at  table,  and  received  presents  from  their  husbands,  as  the  hus¬ 
bands  did  from  their  wives  in  the  time  of  the  Saturnalia.  As  the  festival  of 
the  Matronalia  was  not  only  observed  in  honour  of  the  Sabine  women,  but 
consecrated  to  Mai's,  and,  as  some  will  have  it,  to  Juno  Lucina,  sacrifices 
were  offered  to  both  these  deities.  This  feast  was  the  subject  of  Horace’s 
Ode,  Martiis  coelebs  quid  ogam  calendls,  8tc.  ar  1  OviU  ^escribes  it  at  large 


80 


ROMULUS. 


instituted  in  honour  cf  the  women,  for  their  putting  an  end  to 
the  war;  and  another,  the  Carmentalia.*  Carmenta  is  by  some 
supposed  to  be  one  of  the  destinies  who  presides  oyer  human 
nativities;  therefore,  she  is  particularly  worshipped  by  mo¬ 
thers.  Others  say,  she  was  wife  to  Evander  the  Arcadian, 
and  a  woman  addicted  to  divination,  who  received  inspirations 
from  Apollo,  and  delivered  oracles  in  verse;  thence  called 
Carmenta,  for  carmina  signifies  verse;  but  her  proper  name 
as  is  agreed  on  all  hands,  was  Ni costrata.  Others  again,  with 

greater  probability  assert,  that  the  former  name  was  given  her 
ecause  she  was  distracted  with  enthusiastic  fury;  for  carere 
mente  signifies  to  be  insane .  Of  the  feast  of  Palilia  we  have  al¬ 
ready  given  an  account.  As  for  the  Lupercalia,t  by  the  time,  it 
should  seem  to  be  a  feast  of  lustration;  for  it  was  celebrated 
on  one  of  the  inauspicious  days  of  the  month  of  February, 
which  name  denotes  it  to  be  the  month  of  purifying;  and  the 
day  was  formerly  called  Februata.  But  the  true  meaning  of 
Lupercalia  is  the  feast  of  wolves;  and  it  seems,  for  that  reason, 
to  be  very  ancient,  as  received  from  the  Arcadians  who  came 
over  witn  Evander.  This  is  the  general  opinion.  But  the 
term  may  be  derived  from  lupa  a  she-wolf;  for  we  see  the  Lu- 
perci  begin  their  course  from  the  place  where  they  say  Ro¬ 
mulus  was  exposed.  However,  if  we  consider  the  ceremo¬ 
nies,  the  reason  of  the  name  seems  hard  to  guess:  for  first, 
goats  are  killed;  then  two  noblemen’s  sons  are  introduced, 
and  some  are  to  stain  their  foreheads  with  a  bloody  knife, 
others  to  wipe  off  the  stain  directly,  with  wool  steeped  in 
milk,  which  they  bring  for  that  purpose.  When  it  is  wip¬ 
ed  off,  the  young  men  are  to  laugh.  After  this  they  cut 
the  goats’  skins  in  pieces,  and  run  about  all  naked,  except  their 
middle,  and  lash  with  those  thongs  all  they  meet.  The  young 
women  avoid  not  the  stroke,  as  they  think  it  assists  concep¬ 
tion  and  child-birth.  Another  thing  proper  to  this  feast  is, 
for  the  Luperci  to  sacrifice  a  dog.  Butas,  who  in  his  Elegies 
has  given  a  fabulous  account  of  the  origin  of  the  Roman  in¬ 
stitutions,  writes,  that  when  Romulus  had  overcome  Amulius, 
in  the  transports  of  victory,  he  ran  with  great  speed  to  the 
place  where  the  wolf  suckled  him  and  his  brother,  when  in¬ 
fants;  and  that  this  feast  is  celebrated,  and  the  young  noble- 

tn  the  Third  Book  of  Fasti.  Dacier  says,  by  mistake,  that  this  feast  was 
kept  on  the  1st  of  April,  instead  of  the  1st  of  March,  and  the  former  En¬ 
glish  annotator  has  followed  him. 

*  Tliis  is  a  very  solemn  feast,  kept  on  the  11th  of  January,  under  th« 
Capitol,  near  the  Carmental  gate.  They  begged  of  this  goddess  to  render 
their  women  fruitful,  and  to  give  them  happy  deliveries. 

j-  This  festival  was  celebrated  on  the  11th  of  February,  in  honour  of  the 
p*od  Pan. 


ROMULUS.  81 

men  run,  in  imitation  of  that  action,  striking  all  that  are  m 
liieir  way: —  • 

As  the  fam’d  twins  of  Rome,  Amulius  slain, 

From  Alba  pour’d,  and  with  their  reeking  swords 
Saluted  all  they  met. - 

And  the  touching  of  the  forehead  with  a  bloody  knife,  is  a 
symbol  of  that  slaughter  and  danger,  as  the  wiping  off  the 
blood  with  milk  is  in  memory  of  their  first  nourishment.  But 
Caius  Acilius  relates,  that,  before  the  building  of  Rome,  Romu¬ 
lus  and  Remus  having  lost  their  cattle,  first  prayed  to  Faunus 
for  success  in  the  search  of  them,  and  then  ran  out  naked  to 
seek  them,  that  they  might  not  be  incommoded  with  sweat; 
therefore  the  Luperci  run  about  naked.  As  to  the  dog,  if 
this  be  a  feast  of  lustration,  we  may  suppose  it  is  sacrificed,  in 
order  to  be  used  in  purifying;  for  the  Greeks,  in  their  puri¬ 
fications,  make  use  oi  dogs,  and  perform  the  ceremonies  which 
they  call  Periskulakismm.  But  if  these  rites  are  observed,  in 
gratitude  to  the  wolf  that  nourished  and  preserved  Romulus, 
it  is  with  propriety  they  kill  a  dog,  because  it  is  an  enemy  to 
wolves;  yet,  perhaps,  nothing  more  was  meant  by  it  than  to 
punish  that  creature  for  disturbing  the  Luperci  in  their  run¬ 
ning. 

Romulus  is  likewise  said  to  have  introduced  the  sacred  fire, 
and  to  have  appointed  the  holy  virgins  called  Vestals.*  Others 
attribute  this  to  Numa,  but  allow  that  Romulus  was  remark 
ably  strict  in  observing  other  religious  rites,  and  skilled  in 
divination;  for  which  purpose  he  bore  the  Lituus .  This  is  a 
crooked  staff,  with  which  those  that  sit  to  observe  the  fligh 
of  birds, t  describe  the  several  quarters  of  the  heavens.  It  wa, 
kept  in  the  Capitol,  but  lost  when  Rome  was  taken  by  the 
Gauls;  afterwards,  when  the  barbarians  had  quitted  it,  it  was 
found  buried  deep  in  ashes,  untouched  by  the  fire,  whilst  every 
tiring  about  it  was  destroyed  and  consumed.  Romulus  also 
enacted  some  laws;  amongst  the  rest  that  severe  one,  which 
forbids  the  wife  in  any  case  to  leave  her  husband,  J  but  gives 

*  Plutarch  means  that  Romulus  was  the  first  who  introduced  the  sacred 
fire  at  Rome.  That  there  were  vestal  virgins,  however,  before  this,  at  Alba, 
we  are  certain,  because  the  mother  of  Romulus  was  one  of  them.  The  sa¬ 
cred  and  perpetual  fire  was  not  only  kept  up  in  Italy,  but  in  Egypt,  in  Per¬ 
sia,  in  Greece,  and  almost  in  all  nations. 

■\  The  Augurs. 

\  Yet  this  privilege,  which  Plutarch  thinks  a  hardship  upon  the  women, 
was  indulged  the  men  by  Moses  in  greater  latitude.  The  women,  however, 
among  the  Romans,  came  at  length  to  divorce  their  husbands,  as  appears 
from  Juvenal  (Sat.  ix.)  and  Martial  (1.  x.  ep.  41.)  At  the  same  time,  it 
must  be  observed,  to  the  honour  of  Roman  virtue,  that  no  divorce  was 

Vm,i. - N  0 


82 


ROMULUS. 


the  husband  power  to  divorce  his  wife,  in  case  of  her  poison¬ 
ing  his  children,  or  counterfeiting  his  keys,  or  being  guilty  of 
adultery.  But  if,  on  any  other  occasion,  he  put  her  away,  she 
was  to  have  one  moiety  of  his  goods,  and  the  other  was  to  be 
consecrated  to  Ceres;  and  whoever  put  away  his  wife  was  to 
make  an  atonement  to  the  gods  of  the  earth.  It  is  something 
particular,  that  Romulus  appointed  no  punishment  for  actual 
parricides,  but  called  all  murder  parricide,  looking  upon  this 
as  abominable;  and  the  other  as  impossible.  For  many  ages, 
indeed,  he  seemed  to  have  judged  rightly;  no  one  was  guilty 
of  that  crime  in  Rome  for  almost  six  hundred  years;  and  Lu¬ 
cius  Ostius,  after  the  wars  of  Hannibal,  is  recorded  to  have 
been  the  first  that  murdered  his  father. 

In  the  fifth  year  of  the  reign  of  Tatius,  some  of  his  friends 
and  kinsmen  meeting  certain  ambassadors  who  were  going 
from  Laurentum  to  Rome,*  attempted  to  rob  them  on  the 
road,  and,  as  they  would  not  suffer  it,  but  stood  in  their  own 
defence,  killed  them.  As  this  was  an  atrocious  crime,  Romu¬ 
lus  required  that  those  who  committed  it  should  immediately 
be  punished,  but  Tatius  hesitated  and  put  it  off.  This  was 
the  first  occasion  of  any  open  variance  between  them;  for  till 
now  they  had  behaved  themselves  as  if  directed  by  one  soul, 
and  the  administration  had  been  carried  on  with  all  possible 
unanimity.  The  relations  of  those  that  were  murdered,  find¬ 
ing  they  could  have  no  legal  redress  from  Tatius,  fell  upon 
him  and  slew  him  at  Lavinium,  as  he  was  offering  sacrifice 
with  Romulus  ;t  but  they  conducted  Romulus  back  with  ap¬ 
plause,  as  a  prince  who  paid  all  proper  regard  to  justice.  To 
the  body  of  Tatius  he  gave  an  honourable  interment,  at  Armi- 
lustrium,^  on  Mount  Aventine;  but  he  took  no  care  to  re¬ 
venge  his  death  on  the  persons  that  killed  him.  Some  histo¬ 
rians  write,  that  the  Laurentians  in  great  terror  gave  up  the 
murderers  of  Tatius;  but  Romulus  let  them  go,  saying — 
“  Blood  with  blood  should  be  repaid.  ”  This  occasioned  a  re 

known  at  Rome  for  five  hundred  and  twenty  years.  One  P.  Servilius,  or 
Carvilius  Spurius,  was  the  first  of  the  Romans  that  ever  put  away  his  wife. 

*  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  says,  they  were  ambassadors  from  Lavinium, 
who  had  been  at  Rome  to  complain  of  the  incursions  made  by  some  of  Ta- 
tius’s  friends  upon  their  territories;  and  that  as  they  were  returning,  the 
Sabines  lay  in  wait  tor  them  on  the  road,  stripped  them,  and  killed  several 
of  them.  Lavinium  and  Laurentum  were  neighbouring  towns  in  Latium.  • 
f  Probably  this  was  a  sacrifice  to  the  Dii  Indigenes  of  Latium,  in  whi;h 
Rome  was  included.  But  Licinius  writes,  that  Tatius  went  not  thither  with 
Romulus,  nor  on  account  of  the  sacrifice,  but  that  he  went  alone  to  persuade 
the  inhabitants  to  pardon  the  murderers. 

t  The  place  was  so  called,  because  of  a  ceremony  of  the  same  name,  ce 
lebrated  every  year  on  the  19th  of  October,  when  the  troops  were  muster 
vid,  and  purified  bv  sacrifices. 


ROMULUS. 


•  83 

port,  and,  indeed  a  strong  suspicion,  that  he  was  not  sorry  to 
get  rid  of  his  partner  in  the  government.  None  of  these 
things,  however,  occasioned  any  disturbance  or  sedition 
among  the  Sabines;  but  partly  out  of  regard  for  Romulus, 
partly  out  of  fear  of  his  power,  or  because  they  reverenced 
him  as  a  god,  they  all  continued  well  affected  to  him.  This 
veneration  for  him  extended  to  many  other  nations.  The  an¬ 
cient  Latins  sent  ambassadors,  and  entered  into  league  and 
a'liance  with  him.  Fidenae,  a  city  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Rome,  he  took,  as  some  say,  by  sending  a  body  of  horse  he 
fore  with  orders  to  break  the  hinges  of  the  gates,  and  then 
appearing  unexpectedly  in  person.  Others  will  have  it,  that 
the  Fidenates  first  attacked  and  ravaged  the  Roman  territo¬ 
ries,  and  were  carrying  off  considerable  booty,  when  Romulus 
lay  in  ambush  for  them,  cut  many  of  them  off,  and  took  their 
city.  He  did  not,  however,  demolish  it,  but  made  it  a  Roman 
colony,  and  sent  into  it  two  thousand  five  hundred  inhabit¬ 
ants  on  the  13th  of  April. 

After  this,  a  plague  broke  out,  sc  fatal,  that  people  died  of 
it  without  any  previous  sickness;  while  the  scarcity  of  fruits, 
and  barrenness  of  the  cattle,  added  to  the  calamity.  It  rained 
blood  too  in  the  city;  so  that  their  unavoidable  sufferings 
were  increased  with  the  terrors  of  superstition:  and  when  tne 
destruction  spread  itself  to  Laurentum,  then  all  agreed  it  was 
for  neglecting  to  do  justice  to  the  murderers  of  the  ambassa¬ 
dors  and  of  Tatius,  that  the  divine  vengeance  pursued  both 
cities.  Indeed,  when  those  murderers  were  given  up  and 

6 unished  by  both  parties,  their  calamities  visibly  abated;  and 
lOmulus  purified  the  city  with  lustrations,  which,  they  tell 
us,  are  yet  celebrated  at  the  Ferentine  gate.  Before  the  pesti¬ 
lence  ceased,  the  people  of  Cameria*  attacked  the  Romans, 
and  overran  the  country,  thinking  them  incapable  of  resist¬ 
ance  by  reason  of  the  sickness.  But  Romulus  soon  met  them 
in  the  field,  gave  them  battle,  in  which  he  killed  six  thousand 
of  them,  took  their  city,  and  transplanted  half  its  remaining 
inhabitants  to  Rome;  adding,  on  the  first  of  August,  to  those 
he  left  in  Cameria,  double  their  number  from  Rome;  so  many 
people  had  he  to  spare  in  about  sixteen  years  time  from  the 
building  of  the  city.  Among  other  spoils,  he  carried  from 
Cameria  a  chariot  of  brass,  which  he  consecrated  in  the  tem¬ 
ple  of  Vulcan,  placing  upon  it  his  own  statue  crowned  by 
victory. 

His  affairs  thus  flourishing,  the  weaker  part  of  his  neigh¬ 
bours  submitted,  satisfied,  if  they  could  but  live  in  peace;  but 

*  This  was  a  town  which  Romulus  had  taken  before.  Its  old  inhabitant* 
took  tills  opportunity  to  rise  in  arms,  and  kill  the  Roman  garrison. 


ROMULUS. 


S4 

the  more  powerful,  dreading  or  envying  Romulus,  thought 
they  should  not  by  any  means  let  him  go  unnoticed,  but  op¬ 
pose  and  put  a  stop  to  his  growing  greatness.  The  Veientes, 
who  had  a  strong  city  and  extensive  country,*  were  the  first 
of  the  Tuscans  who  began  the  war,  demanding  Fidense  as 
their  property.  But  it  was  not  only  unjust,  but  ridiculous, 
that  they,  who  had  given  the  people  of  Fidenae  no  assistance 
in  the  greatest  extremities,  but  had  suffered  them  to  perish, 
should  challenge  their  houses  and  lands  now  in  the  possession 
of  other  masters.  Romulus,  therefore,  gave  them  a  con¬ 
temptuous  answer;  upon  which  they  divided  their  forces  into 
two  bodies;  one  attacked  the  garrison  of  Fidenae,  and  the 
other  went  to  meet  Romulus.  That  which  went  against  Fi¬ 
denae  defeated  the  Romans,  and  killed  two  thousand  of  them; 
but  the  other  was  beaten  by  Romulus,  with  the  loss  of  more 
than  eight  thousand  men.  They  gave  battle,  however,  once 
more  at  Fidenae,  where  all  allow  the  victory  was  chiefly  owing 
to  Romulus  himself,  whose  skill  and  courage  were  then  re¬ 
markably  displayed,  and  whose  strength  and  swiftness  appear¬ 
ed  more  than  human.  But  what  some  report  is  entirely  fabu¬ 
lous,  and  utterly  incredible,  that  there  fell  that  day  fourteen 
thousand  men,  above  half  of  whom  Romulus  slew  with  his 
own  hand.  For  even  the  Messenians  seem  to  have  been  ex¬ 
travagant  in  their  boasts,  when  they  tell  us  Aristomenes  of¬ 
fered  a  hecatomb  three  several  times,  for  having  as  often 
killed  a  hundred  Lacedaemonians,  t  After  the  Veientes  were 
thus  ruined,  Romulus  suffered  the  scattered  remains  to  escape, 
and  marched  directly  to  their  city.  The  inhabitants  could 
not  bear  up  after  so  dreadful  a  blow,  but  humbly  suing  for  a 
peace,  obtained  a  truce  for  a  hundred  years,  by  giving  up  a 
considerable  part  of  their  territory  called  Septempagium, 
which  signifies  a  district  of  seven  towns,  together  with  the 
salt-pits  by  the  river;  besides  which,  they  delivered  into  his 
hands  fifty  of  their  nobility  as  hostages.  He  triumphed  for 
this  on  the  15th  of  October,  leading  up,  among  many  other 
captives,  the  general  of  the  Veientes,  a  man  in  years,  who 
seemed  on  this  occasion  not  to  have  behaved  with  the  pru¬ 
dence  which  might  have  been  expected  from  his  age.  Hence 
it  is  that,  to  this  day,  when  they  offer  a  sacrifice  for  victory, 
they  lead  an  old  man  through  the  forum  to  the  Capitol,  in  a 

*  Veii,  the  capital  of  Tuscany,  was  situated  on  a  craggy  rock,  about  one 
hundred  furlong's  from  Rome;  and  is  compared  by  Dionysius  of  .Halicarnassus 
to  Athens  for  extent  and  riches. 

f  Pausanias  confirms  this  account,  mentioning  both  the  time  and  place  of 
these  achievements,  as  well  as  the  hecatombs  offered  on  account  of  them  to 
Jupiter  Ithomates.  Those  wars  between  the  Messenians  and  Spartans, 
»rere  about  the  time  of  Tullus  Hostilius. 


ROMULUS. 


Doy’s  robe,  edged  with  purple,  with  a  bulla  about  his  neck, 
ana  the  herald  cries, — “  Sardians  to  be  sold;”*  for  the  Tus¬ 
cans  are  said  to  be  a  colony  of  the  Sardians,  and  Veii  is  a  city 
of  Tuscany. 

This  was  the  last  of  the  wars  of  Romulus.  After  this  he  be¬ 
haved  as  almost  all  men  do  who  rise  by  some  great  and  unex- 

Eected  good  fortune  to  dignity  and  power;  for,  exalted  with 
is  exploits,  and  loftier  in  his  sentiments,  he  dropped  his 
popular  affability,  and  assumed  the  monarch  to  an  odious  de¬ 
gree.  He  gave  the  first  offence  by  his  dress;  his  habit  being 
a  purple  vest,  over  which  he  wore  a  robe  bordered  with  pur¬ 
ple.  He  gave  audience  in  a  chair  of  state.  He  had  always 
about  him  a  number  of  young  men  called  Celeres,t  from  their 
despatch  in  doing  business;  and  before  him  went  men  with 
staves  to  keep  off  the  populace,  who  also  wore  thongs  of  lea¬ 
ther  at  their  girdles,  ready  to  bind  directly  any  person  he 
should  order  to  be  bound.  This  binding  the  Latins  formerly 
called  ligare^X  now  alligare ,  whence  those  serjeants  are  called 
Lictores ,  and  their  rods  fasces;  for  the  sticks  they  used  on  that 
occasion  were  small;  though,  perhaps,  at  first  they  were  call¬ 
ed  Litores ,  and  afterwards,  oy  putting  in  a  c,  Lictores ;  for  they 
are  the  same  that  the  Greeks  called  Leitourgoi  (officers  for  the 
people) ;  and  leitos  in  Greek  still  signifies  the  people ,  but  laos  the 
populace. 

When  his  grandfather  Numitor  died  in  Alba,  though  the 
crown  undoubtedly  belonged  to  him,  yet,  to  please  the  people, 
he  left  the  administration  in  their  own  hands;  and  over  the 
Sabines§  (in  Rome)  he  appointed  yearly  a  particular  magis¬ 
trate;  thus  teaching  the  great  men  of  Rome  to  seek  a  free 
commonwealth  without  a  king,  and  by  turns  to  rule  and  to 
obey;  for  now  the  patricians  had  no  share  in  the  government, 
but  only  an  honourable  title  and  appearance,  assembling  in  the 
senate-house  more  for  form  than  business.  There,  with  si 
lent  attention,  they  heard  the  king  give  his  orders,  and  differ' 
ed  only  from  the  rest  of  the  people  in  this,  that  they  went 
home  with  the  first  knowledge  of  what  was  determined.  This 

*  The  Veientes,  with  the  other  Hetrurians,  were  a  colony  of  Lydians, 
whose  metropolis  was  the  city  of  Sardis.  Other  writers  date  this  custom 
from  the  time  of  the  conquest  of  Sardinia  by  Tiberius  Sempronius  Gracchus, 
when  such  a  number  of  slaves  was  brought  from  that  island,  that  none  were 
to  be  seen  in  the  market  but  Sardinians. 

f  Romulus  ordered  the  Curiae  to  choose  him  a  guard  of  three  hundred 
men,  ten  out  of  each  Curiae;  and  these  he  called  Celeres,  for  the  reason 
which  Plutarch  has  assigned. 

+  Plutarch  had  no  critical  skill  in  the  Latin  language. 
h  Xy  lander  and  H.  Stephanus  are  rationally  enough  of  opinion,  that  in¬ 
stead  of  Sabines  we  should  read  Albans;  and  so  the  Latin  translator  ren¬ 
ders  h. 

9* 


86 


ROMULUS. 


treatment  they  digested  as  well  as  they  could;  but  when,  ot 
his  own  authority,  he  divided  the  conquered  lands  among  the 
soldiers,  and  restored  the  Veientes  their  hostages,  without 
the  consent  or  approbation  of  the  senate,  they  considered  it  as 
an  intolerable  insult.  Hence  arose  strong  suspicions  against 
them,  and  Romulus  soon  after  unaccountably  disappeared. 
This  happened  on  the  7th  of  July  (as  it  is  now  called,)  then 
Quintilis;  and  we  have  no  certainty  of  any  thing  about  it  but 
the  time;  various  ceremonies  being  still  performed  on  that  day 
with  reference  to  the  event.  Nor  need  we  wonder  at  this 
uncertainty,  since,  when  Scipio  Africanus  was  found  dead  in 
nis  house  after  supper,'*  there  was  no  clear  proof  of  the  man¬ 
ner  of  his  death;  for  some  say,  that  being  naturally  infirm,  he 
died  suddenly;  some,  that  he  took  poison;  and  others  that  his 
enemies  broke  into  his  house  by  night  and  strangled  him. 
Besides,  all  were  admitted  to  see  Scipio’s  dead  body,  and 
every  one,  from  the  sight  of  it,  had  his  own  suspicion  or  opin¬ 
ion  of  the  cause.  But  as  Romulus  disappeared  on  a  sudden, 
and  no  part  of  his  body,  or  even  his  garments  could  be  found, 
some  conjectured,  that  the  senators,  who  were  convened  in 
the  temple  of  Vulcan,  fell  upon  him  and  killed  him,  after 
which  each  carried  a  part  away  under  his  gown.  Others  say, 
that  his  exit  did  not  happen  in  the  temple  of  Vulcan,  nor  in 
the  presence  of  the  senators  only,  but  while  he  was  holding  an 
assembly  of  the  people  without  the  city,  at  a  place  called  the 
Goat’s  Marsh.  The  air,  on  that  occasion,  was  suddenly  con¬ 
vulsed  and  altered  in  a  wonderful  manner;  for  the  light  of  the 
sun  failed,!  and  they  were  involved  in  an  astonishing  darkness, 
attended  on  every  side  with  dreadful  thunderings,  and  tem¬ 
pestuous  winds.  The  multitude  then  dispersed  and  fled,  but 
the  nobility  gathered  into  one  body.  When  the  tempest  was 
over,  and  the  light  appeared  again,  the  people  returned  to  the 
same  place,  and  a  very  anxious  inquiry  was  made  for  the  king; 
but  the  patricians  would  not  suffer  them  to  look  closely  into 
the  matter.  They  commanded  them  to  honour  and  worship 

*  This  was  Scipio,  the  son  of  Paulus  JLmilius,  adopted  by  Scipio  Africa¬ 
nus.  As  he  constantly  opposed  the  designs  of  the  Gracchi,  it  was  supposed 
that  his  wife  Sempronia,  who  was  sister  to  those  seditious  men,  took  him 
off  by  poison.  According  to  Valerius  Maximus,  no  judicial  inquiry  was 
made  into  the  cause  of  his  death;  and  Victor  tells  us,  the  corpse  was  carried 
out,  with  the  face  covered  with  a  linen  cloth,  that  the  blackness  of  it  might 
not  appear. 

•j-  Cicero  mentions  this  remakable  darkness  in  a  fragment  of  his  sixth  book 
de  Repub.  And  it  appears  from  the  astronomical  tables,  that  there  was  a 
great  eclipse  of  the  sun  in  the  first  year  of  the  sixteenth  Olympiad,  suppos¬ 
ed  to  be  the  year  that  Romulus  died,  on  the  26th  of  May;  which,  consider¬ 
ing  the  little  exactness  there  was  then  in  the  Roman  calendar,  might  very 
well  coincide  with  the  month  of  July. 


ROMULUS. 


87 


Romulus,  who  was  caught  up  to  heaven,  and  who,  as  he  had 
been  a  gracious  king,  would  be  to  the  Romans  a  propitious 
deity.  Upon  this,  the  multitude  went  away  with  great  satis¬ 
faction,  and  worshipped  him,  in  hopes  of  his  favour  and  protec¬ 
tion.  Some,  however,  searching  more  minutely  into  the  affair, 
gave  the  patricians  no  small  uneasiness:  they  even  accused 
them  of  imposing  upon  the  people  a  ridiculous  tale,  when  they 
had  murdered  the  king  with  their  own  hands. 

While  things  were  in  this  disorder,  a  senator,  we  are  told, 
of  great  distinction,  and  famed  for  sanctity  of  manners,  Julius 
Proculus  by  name,*  who  came  from  Alba  with  Romulus,  and 
had  been  his  faithful  friend,  went  into  the  forum,  and  declar¬ 
ed  upon  the  most  solemn  oaths,  before  all  the  people,  that  as  he 
was  travelling  on  the  road,  Romulus  met  him,  in  a  form  more 
noble  and  august  than  ever,  and  clad  in  bright  and  dazzling 
armour.  Astonished  at  the  sight,  he  said  to  him, — “  For 
what  misbehaviour  of  ours,  0  king,  or  by  what  accident,  have 
you  so  untimely  left  us,  to  labour  under  the  heaviest  calum¬ 
nies,  and  the  whole  city  to  sink  under  inexpressible  sorrow?” 
To  which  he  answered, — “It  pleased  the  gods,  my  good 
Proculus,  that  we  should  dwell  with  men  for  a  time;  and  after 
having  founded  a  city,  which  will  be  the  most  powerful  and 
glorious  in  the  world,  return  to  heaven,  from  whence  we 
came.  Farewell,  then,  and  go  tell  the  Romans  that,  by  the 
exercise  of  temperance  and  fortitude,  they  shall  attain  the 
highest  pitch  of  human  greatness,  and  I,  the  god  Quirinus,  will 
ever  be  propitious  to  you.”  This,  by  the  character  and  oath 
of  the  relater,  gained  credit  with  the  Romans,  who  were 
caught  with  the  enthusiasm,  as  if  they  had  been  actually  in¬ 
spired;  and,  far  from  contradicting  what  they  had  heard,  bade 
adieu  to  all  their  suspicions  of  the  nobility,  united  in  the  dei¬ 
fying  of  Quirinus.  and  addressed  their  devotions  to  him. 
This  is  very  like  the  Grecian  fables  concerning  Aristeas  the 
Proconnesian,  and  Cleomedes  the  Astypalesian.  For  Aristeas, 
as  they  tell  us,  expired  in  a  fuller’s  shop;  and  when  his  friends 
came  to  take  away  the  body,  it  could  not  be  found.  Soon  af¬ 
ter,  some  persons  coming  in  from  a  journey,  said  they  met 
Aristeas  travelling  towards  Croton.  As  for  Cleomedes,  their 
account  of  him  is,  that  he  was  a  man  of  gigantic  size  and 
strength;  but  behaving  in  a  foolish  and  frantic  manner,  he  was 
guilty  of  many  acts  of  violence.  At  last  he  went  into  a  school, 
where  he  struck  the  pillar  that  supported  the  roof  with  his 
fist,  and  broke  it  asunder,  so  that  the  roof  fell  in  and  destroyed 
the  children.  Pursued  for  this,  he  took  refuge  in  a  great 
chest,  and  having  shut  the  lid  upon  him,  he  held  it  down  so 


A  descendant  of  lulus,  or  Ascanins. 


88 


ROMULUS 


fast,  that  many  men  together  could  not  force  it  open;  when 
they  had  cut  the  chest  in  pieces,  they  could  not  find  him  either 
dead  or  alive.  Struck  with  this  strange  affair,  they  sent  to 
consult  the  oracle  at  Delphi,  and  had  from  the  priestess  this 
answer: — 

The  nice  of  heroes  ends  in  Cleomedes. 

It  is  likewise  said  that  the  body  of  Alcmena  was  lost,  as 
they  were  carrying  it  to  the  grave,  and  a  stone  was  seen  lying 
on  the  bier  in  its  stead.  Many  such  improbable  tales  are  told 
by  writers  who  wanted  to  deify  beings  naturally  mortal.  It  is 
indeed  impious  and  illiberal  to  leave  nothing  of  divinity  to 
virtue;  but  at  the  same  time,  to  unite  heaven  and  earth  in  the 
same  subject,  is  absurd.  We  should  therefore  reject  fables, 
when  we  are  possessed  of  undeniable  truth;  for  according  to 
Pindar: 


The  body  yields  to  death’s  all-powerful  summons. 

While  the  bright  image  of  eternity 
S  urvive  s . - 

This  alone  is  from  the  gods;  from  heaven  it  comes,  and  to 
heaven  it  returns;  not  indeed  with  the  body;  but  when  it  is 
entirely  set  free  and  separate  from  the  body,  when  it  becomes 
disengaged  from  every  thing  sensual  and  unholy.  For,  in 
the  language  of  Heraclitus,  the  pure  soul  is  of  superior  excel 
lence,*  darting  from  the  body  like  a  flash  of  lightning  from  a 
cloud;  but  the  soul  that  is  carnal  and  immersed  in  sense, t  like 

*  This  is  a  very  difficult  passage.  The  former  translator,  with  an  unjusti¬ 
fiable  liberty,  has  turned  a.v'rx  yct^  di^>»  A  virtuous  soul  is  pure  and 

unmixed  light ;  which,  however  excellent  the  sentiment,  as  borrowed  from 
the  scripture,  where  he  had  found  that  God  is  light ,  is  by  no  means  the  sense 
of  the  original. 

Dacier  has  translated  it  literally  Vdme  seche ,  and  remarks  the  propriety  of 
the  expression,  with  respect  to  that  position  of  Heraclitus,  that  fire  is  the 
first  principle  of  all  things.  The  French  critic  went  upon  the  supposed  an¬ 
alogy  between  fire  and  dryness;  but  there  is  a  much  more  natural  and  more 
obvious  analogy,  which  may  help  us  to  the  interpretation  of  this  passage; 
that  is,  the  near  relation  which  dryness  has  to  purity  or  cleanliness;  and  in¬ 
deed  we  find  the  word  used  metaphorically  in  the  latter  sense — Zx^u 

TgSTCi. 

f  Milton,  in  his  Comus,  uses  the  same  comparison;  for  which,  however,  lie 
is  indebted  rather  to  Plato  than  to  Plutarch : — 

- The  lavish  act  of  sin 

Lets  in  defilement  to  the  inward  parts. 

The  soul  grows  clotted  by  contagion, 

Imbodies,  and  imbrutes,  till  she  quite  lose 
The  divine  property  of  her  first  being. 

Such  are  those  thick  and  gloomy  shadows  damp. 

Oft  seen  in  charnal  vaults  and  sepulchres. 


ROMULUS. 


89 


\  heavy  and  dark  vapour,  with  difficulty  is  kindled  and  as¬ 
pires.  There  is  therefore  no  occasion,  against  nature,  to  send 
the  bodies  of  good  men  to  heaven;  but  we  are  to  conclude, 
that  virtuous  souls,  by  nature  and  the  divine  justice,  rise  from 
men  to  heroes,  from  heroes  to  genii;  and  at  last,  if,  as  in  the 
Mysteries,  they  be  perfectly  cleansed  and  purified,  shaking 
of!*  all  remains  of  mortality,  and  all  the  power  of  the  passions, 
then  they  finally  attain  the  most  glorious  and  perfect  happi¬ 
ness,  and  ascend  from  genii  to  gods,  not  by  the  vote  of  the 
people,  but  by  the  just  and  established  order  of  nature.'* 

The  sirname  that  Romulus  had  of  Quirinus,  some  think  was 
given  him  as  (another)  Mars;  others,  because  they  call  the 
Roman  citizens  Quirites;  others,  again,  because  the  ancients 
gave  the  name  of  Quiris  to  the  point  of  a  spear,  or  to  the  spear 
itself;  and  that  of  Juno  Quiritus  to  the  statues  of  Juno,  when 
she  was  represented  leaning  on  a  spear.  Moreover,  they 
styled  a  certain  spear,  which  was  consecrated  in  the  palace, 
Mars;  and  those  that  distinguished  themselves  in  war  wTere 
rewarded  with  a  spear.  Romulus,  then,  as  a  martial  or  war¬ 
rior  god,  was  named  Quirinus;  and  the  hill  on  which  his  tem¬ 
ple  stands,  has  the  name  of  Quirinalis  on  his  account.  The 
day  on  which  he  disappeared,  is  called  the  J light  of  the  people 
and  Nonas  Caprotinas ,  because  then  they  go  out  of  the  city  to 
offer  sacrifice  at  the  Goat’s  Marsh.  On  this  occasion  they  pro¬ 
nounce  aloud  some  of  their  proper  names,  Marcus  and  Caius 
for  instance,  representing  the  flight  that  then  happened,  and 
their  calling  upon  one  another,  amidst  the  terror  and  confu¬ 
sion.  Others,  however,  are  of  opinion  that  this  is  not  a  re¬ 
presentation  of  flight,  but  of  haste  and  eagerness,  deriving  the 
ceremony  from  this  source.  When  the  Gauls,  after  the  tak¬ 
ing  of  Rome,  were  driven  out  by  Camillus,  and  the  city, 
thus  weakened,  did  not  easily  recover  itself,  many  of  the  La¬ 
tins,  under  the  conduct  of  Livius  Posthumus,  marched  against 
it.  This  army  sitting  down  before  Rome,  a  herald  was  sent 
to  signify,  that  the  Latins  were  desirous  to  renew  their  old 
alliance  and  affinity,  which  was  now  declining,  by  new  inter¬ 
marriages.  If,  therefore,  they  would  send  them  a  good  num¬ 
ber  of  their  virgins  and  widowTs,  peace  and  friendship  should 

Ling’ring  and  sitting’  by  a  new-made  grave. 

As  loth  to  leave  the  body  that  it  lov’d; 

And  links  itself  by  carnal  sensuality. 

To  a  degenerate  and  degraded  state. 

•  Ilesiod  was  the  first  who  distinguished  those  four  natures,  men,  heroes, 
genii,  and  gods.  He  saw  room,  it  seems,  for  perpetual  progression  and 
improvement  in  a  state  of  immortality.  And  when  the  heathens  tell  us,  that 
before  the  last  degree,  that  of  divinity,  is  reached,  those  beings  are  liable 
to  be  replunged  into  their  primitive  state  of  darkness,  one  would  imagine 
they  had  heard  something  of  the  fallen  angels. 

VOL.  I  - O 


90 


K0MUJLUS-. 


be  established  between  them,  a3  it  was  before  with  the  Sabine? 
on  the  like  occasion.  When  the  Romans  heard  this,  though 
they  were  afraid  of  war,  yet  they  looked  upon  the  giving  up 
of  their  women  as  not  at  all  more  eligible  than  captivity. 
While  they  were  in  this  suspense,  a  servant  maid  named  Pin- 
lotis,  or,  according  to  others,  Tutola,  advised  them  to  do  nei¬ 
ther,  but  by  a  stratagem,  which  she  had  thought  of,  to  avoid 
both  the  war  and  the  giving  of  hostages.  The  stratagem  was 
to  dress  Philotis  herself,  and  other  handsome  female  slaves, 
in  good  attire,  and  send  them,  instead  of  free-born  virgins,  to 
the  enemy.  Then,  in  the  night,  Philotis  was  to  light  up  a 
torch  (as  a  signal,)  for  the  Romans  to  attack  the  enemy,  and 
despatch  them  in  their  sleep.  The  Latins  were  satisfied,  and 
the  scheme  put  in  practice.  For  accordingly  Philotis  did  set 
up  a  torch  on  a  wild  fig-tree,  screening  it  behind  with  curtains 
and  coverlets  from  the  sight  of  the  enemy,  whilst  it  was  visi¬ 
ble  to  the  Romans.  As  soon  as  they  beheld  it,  they  set  out  in 
great  haste,  often  calling  upon  each  other  at  the  gates  to  be 
expeditious.  Then  they  fell  upon  the  Latins,  who  expected 
nothing  less,  and  cut  them  in  pieces.  Hence,  this  feast,  in 
memory  of  the  victory.  The  day  was  called  Nonas  Caprotinx , 
on  account  of  the  wild  fig-tree ,  in  the  Roman  tongue  caprificus. 
The  women  are  entertained  in  the  fields  in  booths  made  of  the 
branches  of  the  fig-tree;  and  the  servant-maids,  in  companies, 
run  about  and  play;  afterwards  they  come  to  blows,  and  throw 
stones  at  one  another;  in  remembrance  of  their  then  assisting 
and  standing  by  the  Romans  in  the  battle.  These  particulars 
are  admitted  but  by  few  historians.  Indeed  their  calling  upon 
each  others’  names  in  the  day-time,  and  their  walking  in  pro 
cession  to  the  Goat’s  Marsh,*  like  persons  that  were  going  to 
a  sacrifice,  seems  rather  to  be  placed  to  the  former  account; 
though  possibly  both  these  events  might  happen,  in  distant 
periods,  on  the  same  day.  Romulus  is  said  to  have  been  fifty- 
four  years  of  age,  and  in  the  thirty-eighth  of  his  reign,  t  when 
lie  was  taken  from  the  woild. 


*  Instead  ot  a>;  in  buKar rctv,  the  reading  in  Bryan’s  text,  which  has  no 
tolerable  sense,  an  anonymous  copy  gives  us  And  that  to 

sacrifice ,  or  rather  to  offer  up  prayers  at  a  sacrifice,  is  in  one  sense  of  olkax^uv, 
appears  from  the  scholiast  on  Sophocles’  Trachinise ,  where  he  explains 
by  tn  <roov  Sunw  This  signification,  we  suppose  it 

gained  from  the  loud  accent  in  which  those  prayers  were  said  or  sung. 

•f  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  (and  indeed  Plutarch  himself,  in  the  begin¬ 
ning  of  the  life  of  Numa)  says,  that  Romulus  left  the  world  in  the  thirty-se¬ 
venth  year  after  the  foundation  of  Rome.  But  perhaps  those  two  historians 
may  be  reconciled  as  to  the  age  he  died  at;  for  Plutarch  says,  he  was  then 
full  fifty-four  years  of  age,  and  Dionysius  that  he  was  in  his  fifty-fifth  year 


ROMULUS  AND  THESEUS 


COMPARED. 

This  is  all  I  have  met  with  that  deserves  to  be  related  con¬ 
cerning  Romulus  and  Theseus.  And  to  come  to  the  compa¬ 
rison;*  first  it  appears,  that  Theseus  was  inclined  to  great  en¬ 
terprises,  by  his  own  proper  choice,  and  compelled  by  no 
necessity,  since  he  might  have  reigned  in  peace  at  Troezene, 
over  a  kingdom  by  no  means  contemptible,  which  would  have 
fallen  to  him  by  succession;  whereas  Romulus,  in  order  to 
avoid  present  slavery  and  impending  punishment,  became 
valiant  (as  Plato  expresses  it)  through  fear,  and  was  driven, 
by  the  terror  of  extreme  sufferings,  to  arduous  attempts.  Be¬ 
sides,  the  greatest  action  of  Romulus  was  the  killing  of  one 
tyrant  in  Alba:  but  the  first  exploits  of  Theseus,  performed 
occasionally,  and  by  way  of  prelude  only,  were  those  of  de¬ 
stroying  Sciron,  Sinnis,  Procrustes,  and  the  club-bearer;  by 
whose  punishment  and  death  he  delivered  Greece  from  seve¬ 
ral  cruel  tyrants,  before  they  for  whose  preservation  he  was 
labouring,  knew  him.  Moreover,  he  might  have  gone  safely 
to  Athens  by  sea,  without  any  danger  from  robbers.  But 
Romulus  could  have  no  security  while  Amulius  lived.  This 
difference  is  evident.  Theseus,  wdien  unmolested  himself, 
went  forth  to  rescue  others  from  their  oppressors.  On  the 
other  hand,  Romulus  and  his  brother,  while  they  were  unin¬ 
jured  by  the  tyrant  themselves,  quietly  suffered  him  to  exer¬ 
cise  his  cruelties.  And,  if  it  was  a  great  thing  for  Romulus 
to  be  wounded  in  the  battle  with  the  Sabines,  to  kill  Acron, 
and  to  conquer  many  other  enemies,  we  may  set  against  these 
distinctions  the  battle  with  the  Centaurs,  and  the  war  with 
the  Amazons. 

But  as  to  Theseus’s  enterprise  with  respect  to  the  Cretan 
tribute,  when  he  voluntarily  offered  to  go  among  the  young 
men  and  virgins,  whether  ne  was  to  expect  to  be  food  for 
some  wild  beast,  or  to  be  sacrificed  at  Androgeus’s  tomb,  or, 
which  is  the  lightest  of  all  the  evils  said  to  be  prepared  for 
him,  to  submit  to  a  vile  and  dishonourable  slavery,  it  is  not 

*  Nothing’  can  be  more  excellent  than  these  parallels  of  Plutarch.  He 
weighs  the  virtues  and  vices  of  men  in  so  just  a  balance,  and  puts  so  true 
an  estimate  on  their  good  and  bad  qualities,  that  the  reader  can  not  attend 
to  them  without  infinite  advantage. 


92 


ROMULUS  AND  THESEUS  COMPARED. 


easy  to  express  his  courage  and  magnanimity,  his  regard  Joi 
justice  and  the  public  good;  and  his  love  of  glory  and  of  vir¬ 
tue.  On  this  occasion,  it  appears  to  me  that  the  philosophers 
have  not  ill  defined  love  to  be  a  remedy  provided  by  the  gods  for 
the  safety  and  preservation  of  youth.*  For  Ariadne’s  love  seems 
to  have  been  the  work  of  some  god,  who  designed  by  that 
means  to  preserve  this  great  man.  Nor  should  we  blame  her 
for  her  passion,  but  rather  wonder  that  all  were  not  alike  af¬ 
fected  towards  him.  And  if  she  alone  was  sensible  of  that 
tenderness,  I  may  justly  pronounce  her  worthy  the  love  of  a 
god,t  as  she  showed  so  great  a  regard  for  virtue  and  excellence 
in  her  attachment  to  so  woithy  a  man. 

Both  Theseus  and  Romulus  were  born  with  political  talents; 
vet  neither  of  them  preserved  the  proper  character  of  a  king, 
out  deviated  from  the  due  medium,  the  one  erring  on  the  side 
of  democracy,  the  other  on  that  of  absolute  power,  according 
to  their  different  tempers.  For  a  prince’s  first  concern  is  to 
preserve  the  government  itself;  and  this  is  effected,  no  less  by 
avoiding  whatever  is  improper,  than  by  cultivating  what  is 
suitable  to  his  dignity.  He  who  gives  up  or  extends  his  authority , 
continues  not  a  prince  or  a  king ,  but  degenerates  into  a  republican  or 
a  tyrant ,  and  thus  incurs  either  the  hatred  or  contempt  of  his 
subjects.  The  former  seems  to  be  the  error  of  a  mild  and  hu¬ 
mane  disposition,  the  latter  of  self-love  and  severity. 

If,  then,  the  calamities  of  mankind  are  not  to  be  entirely 
attributed  to  fortune,  but  we  are  to  seek  the  cause  in  their  dif 
ferent  manners  and  passions,  here  we  shall  find,  that  unrea¬ 
sonable  anger,  with  quick  and  unadvised  resentment,  is  to  be 
imputed  both  to  Romulus,  in  the  case  of  his  brother,  and  to 
Theseus  in  that  of  his  son.  But,  if  we  consider  whence  their 
anger  took  its  rise,  the  latter  seems  the  more  excusable,  from 
the  greater  cause  he  had  for  resentment,  as  yielding  to  the 
heavier  blow.  For,  as  the  dispute  began  when  Romulus  was 
in  cool  consultation  for  the  common  good,  J  one  would  think 
he  could  not  presently  have  given  way  to  such  a  passion; 
whereas  Theseus  was  urged  against  his  son,  by  emotions 

*  Vide  Plat .  Conviv. 

-j-  Plutarch  here  enters  into  the  notion  of  Socrates,  who  teaches,  that  it  is 
the  love  of  virtue  and  real  excellence  which  alone  can  unite  us  to  the  Su¬ 
preme  Being*.  But  though  this  maxim  is  g*ood,  it  is  not  applicable  to.  Ari¬ 
adne.  For  where  is  the  virtue  of  that  princess,  who  fell  in  love  with  a 
6trang*er  at  first  sight,  and  hastened  to  the  completion  of  her  wishes  tlirough 
the  ruin  of  her  kindred  and  her  county. 

$  Plutarch  does  not  seem  to  have  had  a  just  idea  of  the  contest  between 
Romulus  and  Remus.  The  two  brothers  were  not  so  solicitous  about  the 
situation  of  their  new  city,  as  which  of  them  should  have  the  command  in 
when  it  was  built. 


ROMULUS  AND  THESEUS  COMPARED. 


93 


wnicli  iew  men  have  )een  aWe  to  withstand,  proceeding  from 
love,  jealousy,  and  1  le  false  suggestions  of  his  wife.  What 
is  more,  the  anger  of  Romulus  discharged  itself  in  an  action 
of  most  unfortunate  consequence;  but  that  of  Theseus  pro 
ceeded  no  further  than  words,  reproaches,  and  imprecations, 
the  usual  revenge  of  old  men.  The  rest  of  the  young  man’s 
misery  seems  to  have  been  owing  to  fortune.  Thus  far  The¬ 
seus  seems  to  deserve  the  preference. 

But  Romulus  has,  in  the  first  place,  this  great  advantage, 
that  he  rose  to  distinction  from  very  small  beginnings.  For 
the  two  brothers  were  reputed  slaves  and  sons  of  herdsmen; 
and  yet  before  they  attained  to  liberty  themselves,  they  be¬ 
stowed  it  on  almost  all  the  Latins;  gaining  at  once  the  most 
glorious  title,  as  destroyers  of  their  enemies,  deliverers  of  their 
kindred,  kings  of  nations,  and  founders  of  cities,  not  trans¬ 
planters,  as  Theseus  was,  who  filled  indeed  one  city  with  peo¬ 
ple,  but  it  was  by  ruining  many  others,  which  bore  the  names 
of  ancient  kings  and  heroes.  And  Romulus  afterwards  effect 
ed  the  same,  when  he  compelled  his  enemies  to  demolish 
their  habitations,  and  incorporate  with  their  conquerors.  He 
had  not,  however,  a  city  ready  built,  to  enlarge,  or  to  trans¬ 
plant  inhabitants  to  from  other  towns,  but  he  created  one, 
gaining  to  himself  lands,  a  country,  a  kingdom,  children, 
wives,  alliances;  and  this  without  destroying  or  ruining  any 
one.  On  the  contrary,  he  was  a  great  benefactor  to  persons 
who,  having  neither  house  nor  habitation,  willingly  became 
his  citizens  and  people.  He  did  not,  indeed,  like  Theseus, 
destroy  robbers  and  ruffians,  but  he  subdued  nations,  took 
cities,  and  triumphed  over  kings  and  generals. 

As  for  the  fate  of  Remus,  it  is  doubtful  by  what  hand  he 
fell;  most  writers  ascribing  it  to  others,  and  not  to  Romulus. 
But,  in  the  face  of  all  the  world,  he  saved  his  mother  from 
destruction;  and  placed  his  grandfather,  who  lived  in  mean 
and  dishonourable  subjection,  upon  the  throne  of  iEneas. 
Moreover,  he  voluntarily  did  him  many  kind  offices,  but 
never  injured  him,  not  even  inadvertently.  On  the  other 
hand,  I  think,  Theseus,  in  forgetting  or  neglecting  the  com¬ 
mand  about  the  sail,  can  scarcely,  by  any  excuses,  or  before 
the  mildest  judges,  avoid  the  imputation  of  parricide.  Sensi¬ 
ble  how  difficult  the  defence  of  this  affair  would  be  to  those 
who  should  attempt  it,  a  certain  Athenian  writer  feigns,  that 
when  the  ship  approached,  iEgeus  ran  in  great  haste  to  ihe 
citadel  for  the  better  view  of  it,  and  missing  his  step,  'ell 
down;  as  if  Ii3  were  destitute  of  servants,  or  went,  in  what¬ 
ever  hurry,  unattended  to  the  sea. 

Moreover,  Theseus’s  rapes  and  offences,  with  respect,  to 
women,  admit  of  no  plausible  excuse;  because,  in  the  first 

IQ 


94 


UOMULUS  AND  THESEUS  COMPARED. 


place,  they  were  committed  often;  for  he  carried  off  Ariadne, 
Antiope,  and  Anaxo  the  Troezenian;  after  the  rest,  Helen 
though  she  was  a  girl  not  yet  come  to  maturity,  and  he  so  far 
advanced  in  years,  that  it  was  time  for  him  to  think  no  more 
even  of  lawful  marriage.  The  next  aggravation  is  the  cause; 
for  the  daughters  of  the  Troezenians,  the  Lacedaemonians,  and 
the  Amazons,  were  not  more  fit  to  bring  children,  than  those 
of  the  Athenians,  sprung  from  Erechtheus  and  Cecrops. 
These  things,  therefore,  are  liable  to  the  suspicion  of  a  wanton 
and  licentious  appetite.  On  the  other  hand,  Romulus,  having 
carried  off  at  once  almost  eight  hundred  women,  did  not  take 
them  all,  but  only  Hersilia,  as  it  is  said,  for  himself,  and  dis¬ 
tributed  the  rest  among  the  most  respectable  citizens.  And 
afterwards,  by  the  honourable  and  affectionate  treatment  he 
procured  them,  he  turned  that  injury  and  violence  into  a  glo¬ 
rious  exploit,  performed  with  a  political  view  to  the  good  ol 
society.  Thus  he  united  and  cemented  the  two  nations  to¬ 
gether,  and  opened  a  source  of  future  kindness,  and  of  addi¬ 
tional  power.  Time  bears  witness  to  the  conjugal  modesty, 
tenderness,  and  fidelity,  which  he  established;  for  during  twi 
hundred  and  thirty  years  no  man  attempted  to  leave  his  wife, 
nor  any  woman  her  husband.*  And,  as  the  very  curious 
among  the  Greeks  can  tell  you,  who  was  the  first  person  tha 
killed  his  father  and  mother,  so  all  the  Romans  know,  that 
Spurius  Carvilius  was  the  first  that  divorced  his  wife,  alleg¬ 
ing  her  barrenness,  t  The  immediate  effects,  as  well  as  length 
of  time,  attest  what  I  have  said.  For  the  two  kings  shared 
the  kingdom,  and  the  two  nations  came  under  the  same  go¬ 
vernment,  by  means  of  these  alliances.  But  the  marriages  of 
Theseus  procured  the  Athenians  no  friendship  with  any  othei 
state;  on  the  contrary,  enmity,  wars,  the  destruction  of  their 
citizens,  and  at  last  the  loss  of  Aphidnae;  which  only  through 
the  compassion  of  the  enemy,  whom  the  inhabitants  supplica¬ 
ted  and  honoured  like  gods,  escaped  the  fate  that  befel  Troy 
by  means  of  Paris.  However,  the  mother  of  Theseus,  de¬ 
serted  and  given  up  by  her  son,  was  not  only  in  danger  of,  but 
really  did  suffer  the  misfortunes  of  Hecuba,  if  her  captivity 
be  not  a  fiction,  as  a  great  deal  besides  may  very  well  be.  As 

*  These  numbers  are  wrong- in  Plutarch:  for  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus 
marks  the  time  with  great  exactness,  acquainting-  us,  that  it  was  520  years 
after  the  building-  of  Rome,  in  the  consulate  of  M.  Pomponius  Matho  and  C. 
Papirius  Masso. 

f  Carvilius  made  oath  before  the  censors,  that  he  had  the  best  regard  for 
his  wife,  and  that  it  was  solely  in  compliance  with  the  sacred  engagement 
of  marriage,  the  design  of  which  was  to  have  children,  that  he  divorced  her, 
But  this  did  not  hinder  his  character  from  being  ever  after  odious  to  the  peo¬ 
ple,  who  thought  he  had  set  a  very  pernicious  example. 


ROMVLCd  AND  1HKVKUS  COMPARED. 


05 


to  the  stories  we  have  concerning  both,  of  a  supernatural  kind, 
the  difference  is  great.  For  Romulus  was  preserved  by  the 
signal  favour  of  heaven;  but  as  the  oracle  which  commanded 
^Rgeus  not  to  approach  any  woman  in  a  foreign  country,  was 
not  observed,  the  birth  of  Theseus  appears  to  have  been  un¬ 
acceptable  to  the  gods. 


THE 


LIFE  OF  LYCURGUS.* 


Of  Lycurgus  the  lawgiver  we  have  nothing  to  relate  that 
is  certain  and  uncontroverted.  For  there  are  different  accounts 
of  his  birth,  his  travels,  his  death,  and  especially  of  the  laws 
and  form  of  government  which  he  established.  But  least  of 
all  are  the  times  agreed  upon  in  which  this  great  man  lived. 
For  some  say  he  flourished  at  the  same  time  with  Iphitus,t 
and  joined  with  him  in  settling  the  cessation  of  arms  during 
the  Olympic  games.  Among  these  is  Aristotle  the  philoso¬ 
pher,  who  alleges  for  proof  an  Olympic  quoit,  on  which  was 
preserved  the  inscription  of  Lycurgus’s  name.  But  others 
who,  with  Eratosthenes  and  Apollodorus,  compute  the  time  by 
the  successions  of  the  Spartan  kings,  J  place  him  much  earlier 

*  The  life  of  Lycurgus  was  the  first  which  Plutarch  published,  as  he  him 
self  observes  in  the  fife  of  Theseus.  He  seems  to  have  had  a  strong  attach¬ 
ment  to  the  Spartans  and  their  customs,  as  Xenophon  likewise  had:  for,  be 
sides  this  life,  and  those  of  several  other  Spartan  chiefs,  we  have  a  treatise 
of  his  on  the  laws  and  customs  of  the  Lacedaemonians,  and  another  of  Laco¬ 
nic  Apophthegms.  He  makes  Lycurgus  in  all  things  a  perfect  hero,  and 
alleges  his  behaviour  as  a  proof,  that  the  wise  man,  so  often  described  bv 
the  philosophers,  was  not  a  mere  ideal  character,  unattainable  by  human 
nature.  It  is  certain,  however,  that  the  encomiums  bestowed  upon  him 
and  his  laws  by  the  Delphic  oracle,  were  merely  a  contriv  ance  between  the 
Pythoness  and  himself;  and  some  of  his  laws,  for  instance,  that  concerning 
the  women,  were  unexceptionable. 

•f-  lphitus,  king  of  Elis,  is  said  to  have  instituted,  or  rather  restored,  the 
Olympic  games,  108  years  before  what  is  commonly  reckoned  the  first  Olym¬ 
piad,  which  commenced  in  the  year  before  Christ  776,  or,  as  some  will  have 
it,  774,  and  bore  the  name  of  Corcebus,  as  the  following  Olympiads  did  those 
of  other  victors. 

lphitus  began  with  offering  a  sacrifice  to  Hercules,  whom  the  Eleans  be¬ 
lieved  to  have  been  upon  some  account  exasperated  against  them.  He  next 
ordered  the  Olympic  games,  the  discontinuance  of  which  was  said  to  have 
caused  a  pestilence,  to  be  proclaimed  all  over  Greece,  with  a  promise  of 
free  admission  to  all  comers,  and  fixed  the  time  for  the  celebration  of  ;hem. 
He  likewise  took  upon  himself  to  be  sole  president  and  judge  of  those 
games,  a  privilege  which  the  Piseans  had  often  disputed  with  his  prede¬ 
cessors,  and  which  continued  to  his  descendants,  as  long'  as  the  real  dignity 
subsisted.  After  this,  the  people  appointed  two  presidents,  which  in  time 
increased  to  ten,  and  at  length  to  twelve. 

t  Strabo  says,  that  Lycurgus,  the  lawgiver,  certainly  lived  in  the  fifth 
generation  after  Althemenes,  v:ao  led  a  colony  into  Crete.  This  Althemo 


LYCURGUS. 


97 


than  the  first  Olympiad.  Timaeus,  however,  supposes,  that,  as 
there  were  two  Lycurguses  in  Sparta,  at  different  times,  the 
actions  of  both  are  ascribed  to  one,  on  account  of  his  particular 
renown;  and  that  the  more  ancient  of  them  lived  not  long  aftei 
Homer.  Nay,  some  say  he  had  seen  him.  Xenophon,  too, 
confirms  the  opinion  of  his  antiquity,  when  he  makes  him  con¬ 
temporary  with  the  Heraclidae.  It  is  true,  the  latest  of  the 
Lacedaemonian  kings  were  of  the  lineage  of  the  Heraclidae. 
But  Xenophon  there  seems  to  speak  of  the  first  and  more  im¬ 
mediate  descendants  of  Hercules.*  As  the  history  of  those 
times  is  thus  involved,  in  relating  the  circumstances  of  Lycur- 
gus’s  life,  we  shall  endeavour  to  select  such  as  are  least  con¬ 
troverted,  and  follow  authors  of  the  greatest  credit. 

Simonides,  the  poet,  tells  us  that  Pritanisn,  or  Eunomus, 
was  father  to  Lycurgus.  But  most  writers  give  us  the  gene¬ 
alogy  of  Lycurgus  and  Eunomus  in  a  different  manner;  for, 
according  to  them,  Soils  was  the  son  of  Patrocles,  and  grand¬ 
son  of  Aristodemus,  Eurytion  the  son  of  Sous,  Prytanus  of  Eu- 
rytion,  and  Eunomus  of  Prytanis;  to  this  Eunomus  was  born 
Polydectes,  by  a  former  wife,  and  by  a  second,  named  Dia- 
nassa,  Lycurgus.  Eutychides,  however,  says  Lycurgus  was 
the  sixth  from  Patrocles,  and  the  eleventh  from  Hercules.  The 
most  distinguished  of  his  ancestors  was  Sotis,  under  whom  the 
Lacedaemonians  made  the  Helotes  their  slaves,!  and  gained  an 
extensive  tract  of  land  from  the  Arcadians.  Of  this  Sous  it  is 
related,  that  being  besieged  by  the  Clitorians  in  a  difficult  post 
where  there  was  no  water,  he  agreed  to  give  up  all  his  con¬ 
quests,  provided  that  himself  and  all  his  army  should  drink  of 
the  neighbouring  spring.  When  these  conditions  were  sworn 
to,  he  assembled  his  forces,  and  offered  his  kingdom  to  the 
man  that  would  forbear  drinking;  not  one  of  them,  however, 
could  deny  himself,  but  they  all  drank.  Then  Sotis  went 
down  to  the  spring  himself,  and  having  only  sprinkled  his  face 
in  the  sight  of  the  enemy,  he  marched  off,  and  still  held  the 
country,  because  all  had  not  drank.  Yet  though  he  was  highly 
honoured  for  this,  the  family  had  not  their  name  from  him, 

nes  was  the  son  of  Cissus,  who  founded  Argos  at  the  same  time  that  Patro¬ 
cles,  Lycurgus’s  ancestor  ip  the  fifth  degree,  laid  the  foundation  of  Sparta. 
So  that  Lycurgus  flourished  some  short  time  after  Solomon,  about  900  years 
Defore  the  Christian  era. 

*  This  passage  is  in  Xenophon’s  excellent  treatise  concerning  the  republic 
of  Sparta,  from  which  Plutarch  has  taken  the  best  part  of  this  life. 

t  The  Helotes,  or  llotes,  were  inhabitants  of  Helos,  a  maritime  town  of 
Laconia.  The  Lacedaemonians  having  conquered  and  made  slaves  of  them, 
called  not  only  them,  but  all  the  other  slaves  they  happened  to  have,  by  the 
name  of  Helotes.  It  is  certain,  however,  that  the  descendants  of  the  origi 
rial  Helotes ,  though  they  were  extremely  ill  treated,  and  some  of  them  assas¬ 
sinated,  subsisted  many  ages  in  Laconia. 

Vox-.  I, - P  10* 


98 


LYCURGUS. 


bat,  from  his  son,  were  called  Eurytionidse ,*  and  this,  because 
Eurytion  seems  to  be  the  first  who  relaxed  the  strictness  of' 
kingly  government,  inclining  to  the  interest  of  the  people,  and 
ingratiating  himself  with  them.  Upon  this  relaxation,  their 
encroachments  increased,  and  the  succeeding  kings,  either  be¬ 
coming  odious,  treating  them  with  greater  rigour,  or  else  giv¬ 
ing  way  through  weakness,  or  in  hopes  of  favour,  for  a  long 
time  anarchy  and  confusion  prevailed  in  Sparta;  by  which  one 
of  its  kings,  the  father  of  Lycurgus,  lost  his  life.  For  while 
he  was  endeavouring  to  part  some  persons  who  were  concern 
ed  in  a  fray,  he  received  a  wound  by  a  kitchen-knife,  of  which 
he  died,  leaving  the  kingdom  to  his  eldest  son,  Polydectcs, 

But  he,  too,  dying  soon  after,  the  general  voice  gave  it  for 
Lycurgus  to  ascend  the  throne;  and  he  actually  did  so,  till  it 
appeared  that  his  brother’s  widow  was  pregnant.  As  soon  as 
he  perceived  this,  he  declared  that  the  kingdom  belonged  to 
her  issue,  provided  it  were  male,  and  he  kept  the  administra¬ 
tion  in  his  hands  only  as  his  guardian.  This  he  did  with  the 
title  of  Prodicosy  which  the  Lacedaemonians  give  to  the  guar¬ 
dians  of  infant  kings.  Soon  after  the  queen  made  him  a  pri¬ 
vate  overture,  that  she  would  destroy  her  child  upon  condi¬ 
tion  that  he  would  marry  her,  when  king  of  Sparta.  Though 
he  detested  her  wickedness,  he  said  nothing  against  the  pro 
posal,  but  pretending  to  approve  it,  charged  her  not  to  take  any 
drugs  to  procure  an  abortion,  lest  she  should  endanger  her  own 
health  or  life;  for  he  would  take  care  that  the  child,  as  soon 
as  born,  should  be  destroyed.  Thus  he  artfully  drew  on  the 
woman  to  her  full  time;  and,  when  he  heard  she  was  in  la¬ 
bour,  he  sent  persons  to  attend  and  watch  her  delivery,  with 
orders,  if  it  were  a  girl,  to  give  it  to  the  women,  but  if  a  boy, 
to  bring  it  to  him,  in  whatever  business  he  might  be  engaged. 
It  happened  that  he  was  at  supper,  with  the  magistrates  when 
she  was  delivered  of  a  boy,  and  his  servants,  who  were  pre^ 
sent,  carried  the  child  to  him.  When  he  received  it,  he  is  re- 

*  It  may  be  proper  here  to  give  the  reader  a  short  view  of  the  regal  go¬ 
vernment  of  Lacedaemon,  under  the  Herculean  line.  The  Heraclidze  having 
driven  out  Tisamenes  the  son  of  Orestes,  Eurysthenes  and  Procles,  the  sons 
of  Aristodemus,  reigned  in  that  kingdom.  Under  them  the  government  took 
a  new  form,  and,  instead  of  one  sovereign  became  subject  to  two.  These 
two  brothers  did  not  divide  the  kingdom  between  them,  neither  did  they 
agree  to  reign  alternately,  but  they  resolved  to  govern  jointly,  and  with 
equal  power  and  authority.  What  is  surprising  is,  that,  notwithstanding 
their  mutual  jealousy,  this  diarchy  did  not  end  with  these  two  brothers,  but 
continued  under  a  succession  of  thirty  princes  of  the  line  of  Eurysthenes, 
and  twenty-seven  of  that  of  Procles.  Eurysthenes  was  succeeded  by  his 
son  Agis,  from  whom  all  the  descendants  of  that  line  were  sumained  Agidac* 
as  the  other  hne  took  the  name  of  Eurytionidx ,  from  Eurytion,  the  grand 
son  of  Procles,  Pe  trodc  s,  or  Protocles. — Pausa?i.  Slrab .  it  at. 


LYCURGUS. 


99 


ported  to  have  said  to  the  company,  “  Spartans,  see  here  yoiu 
new-born  king.”  He  then  laid  him  down  upon  the  chair  of 
state,  and  named  him  Charilaus,  because  of  the  joy  and  admi 
ration  of  his  magnanimity  and  justice,  testified  by  all  present;. 
Thus  the  reign  of  Lycurgus  lasted  only  eight  months.  But 
the  citizens  had  a  great  veneration  for  him  on  other  accounts: 
and  there  were  more  that  paid  him  their  attentions,  and  were 
ready  to  execute  his  commands,  out  of  regard  to  his  virtues, 
than  those  that  obeyed  him  as  a  guardian  to  the  king,  and  di¬ 
rector  of  the  administration.  There  were  not,  however,  want¬ 
ing  those  that  envied  him,  and  opposed  his  advancement,  as 
too  high  for  so  young  a  man;  particularly  the  relations  and 
friends  of  the  queen-mother,  who  seemed  to  have  been  treated 
with  contempt.  Her  brother,  Leonidas,  one  day  boldly  at¬ 
tacked  him  with  virulent  language,  and  scrupled  not  to  tell 
him,  that  he  was  well  assured  he  would  soon  be  king;  thus 
preparing  suspicions,  and  matter  of  accusation  against  Lycur 
gus,  in  case  any  accident  should  befall  the  king.  Insinuations 
of  the  same  kind  were  likewise  spread  by  the  queen-mother. 
Moved  with  this  ill-treatment,  and  fearing  some  dark  design, 
he  determined  to  get  clear  of  all  suspicion,  by  travelling  into 
other  countries  till  his  nephew  should  be  grown  up,  and  have 
a  son  to  succeed  him  in  the  kingdom. 

He  set  sail,  therefore,  and  landed  in  Crete.  There,  having 
observed  the  forms  of  government,  and  conversed  with  the 
most  illustrious  personages,  he  was  struck  with  admiration  of 
some  of  their  laws,'*  and  resolved  at  his  return  to  make  use  of 
them  in  Sparta.  Some  others  he  rejected.  Among  the  friends 
he  gained  in  Crete  was  Thales, t  with  whom  he  had  interest 
enough  to  persuade  him  to  go  and  settle  at  Sparta.  Thales 
was  famed  tor  his  wisdom  and  political  abilities;  he  was  withal 
a  lyric  poet,  who,  under  colour  of  exercising  his  art,  perform¬ 
ed  as  great  things  as  the  most  excellent  lawgivers.  For  his 
odes  were  so  many  persuasives  to  obedience  and  unanimity; 
as  by  means  of  melody  and  numbers  they  had  great  grace  and 

*  The  most  ancient  writers,  as  Ephorus,  Callisthenes,  Aristotle,  and  Plato, 
a-e  of  opinion,  that  Lycurgus  adopted  many  tilings  in  the  Cretan  polity. 
But  Polybius  will  have  it  that  they  are  all  mistaken:—  “  At  Sparta,”  says  he 
(ih  his  sixth  book),  “  the  lands  are  equally  divided  among  all  the  citizens*, 
wealth  is  banished;  the  crown  is  hereditary;  whereas  in  Crete  the  contrary 
obtains.”  But  this  does  not  prove  that  Lycurgus  might  not  take  some  good 
laws  and  usages  from  Crete,  and  leave  what  he  thought  defective.  There 
is,  indeed,  so  great  a  conformity  between  the  laws  of  Lycurgus  and  those 
of  Minos,  that  we  must  believe,  with  Strabo,  that  these  were  the  foundation 
of  the  other. 

f  This  Thales,  who  was  a  poet  and  musician,  must  be  distinguished  from 
Thales  the  Milesian,  who  was  one  of  the  seven  wise  men  of  Greece.  Tha 
^oet  lived  250  years  before  the  pliilosopher. 


100 


LYCURGUS. 


power,  they  softened  insensibly  the  manners  of  the  audience, 
drew  them  off  from  the  animosities  which  then  prevailed,  tnd 
united  them  in  zeal  for  excellence  and  virtue.  So  that,  in 
some  measure,  he  prepared  the  way  for  Lycurgus  towards  the 
instruction  of  the  Spartans.  From  Crete  Lycurgus  passed  to 
Asia,  desirous,  as  is  said,  to  compare  the  Ionian* * * §  expense  and 
luxury  with  the  Cretan  frugality  and  hard  diet,  so  as  to  judge 
what  effect  each  had  on  their  several  manners  and  govern 
ments;  just  as  physicians  compare  bodies  that  are  weak  and 
sickly  with  the  healthy  and  robust.  There  also,  probably, t 
he  met  with  Homer’s  poems,  which  were  preserved  by  the 
posterity  of  Cleophylus.  Observing  that  many  moral  sen¬ 
tences,  and  much  political  knowledge,  were  intermixed  with 
his  stories,  which  had  an  irresistible  charm,  he  collected  them 
into  one  body,  and  transcribed  them  with  pleasure,  in  order 
to  take  them  home  with  him.  For  his  glorious  poetry  was 
not  yet  fully  known  in  Greece;  only  some  particular  pieces 
were  in  a  few  hands,  as  they  happened  to  be  dispersed.  Ly¬ 
curgus  was  the  first  that  made  them  generally  known.  The 
Egyptians  likewise  suppose  that  he  visited  them ;  and  as  of  all 
their  institutions  he  was  most  pleased  with  their  distinguishing 
the  military  men  from  the  rest  of  the  people,  J  he  took  the 
same  method  at  Sparta,  and,  by  separating  from  these  the  me¬ 
chanics  and  artificers,  he  rendered  the  constitution  more  noble 
and  more  of  a  piece.  This  assertion  of  the  Egyptians  is  con¬ 
firmed  by  some  of  the  Greek  writers.  But  we  know  of  no 
one,  except  Aristocrates,  son  of  Hipparchus,  and  a  Spartan, 
who  has  affirmed  that  he  went  to  Libya  and  Spain,  and  in  his 
Indian  excursions  conversed  with  the  Gymnosophists.  § 

*  The  Ionians  sent  a  colony  from  Attica  into  Asia  Minor,  about  1050  years 
before  the  Christian  era,  and  150  before  Lycurgus.  And  though  they  might 
not  be  greatly  degenerated  in  so  short  a  time,  yet  our  lawgiver  could  judge 
of  the  effect  which  the  climate  and  Asiatic  plenty  had  upon  them. 

j*  He  adds  probably ,  ccs  tioutv,  because  some  Greek  authors  have  affirmed 
that  Lycurgus  saw  Homer  himself,  who  was  at  that  time  at  Chios.  But  Plu¬ 
tarch’s  opinion  is  more  to  be  relied  on.  Homer  died  before  Lycurgus  was 
born.  Before  the  time  of  Lycurgus,  they  had  nothing  in  Greece  of  Homer, 
but  some  detached  pieces,  which  were  severally  named  from  the  different 
subjects  treated  of  in  them,  such  as.  The  Valour  of  Diomede ,  Hector's  Ran- 
som9  and  the  like. 

f  The  ancient  Egyptians  kept  not  only  the  priests  and  military  men,  who 
consisted  chiefly  of  the  nobility,  distinct  from  the  rest  of  the  people;  but  the 
other  employments,  viz.  those  of  herdsmen,  shepherds,  merchants,  interpre¬ 
ters,  and  seamen,  descended  in  particular  tribes  from  father  to  son. 

§  Indian  priests  and  philosophers  who  went  almost  naked,  and  lived  in 
woods.  The  Brahmans  were  one  of  their  sects.  They  had  a  great  aversion 
to  idleness.  Apuleius  tells  us,  every  pupil  of  theirs  was  obliged  to  give  ac¬ 
count  every  day  of  some  good  he  had  done,  either  by  meditation  or  action, 
before  he  was  admitted  to  sit  down  to  dinner.  So  thoroughly  were  they 


LYCURGUS. 


101 


The  Lacedemonians  found  the  want  of  Lycurgus  when  ab¬ 
sent,  and  sent  many  embassies  to  entreat  him  to  return.  For 
they  perceived  that  their  kings  had  barely  the  title  and  out¬ 
ward  appendages  of  royalty,  but  in  nothing  else  differed  from 
the  multitude;  whereas  Lycurgus  had  abilities  from  nature  te 
guide  the  measures  of  government,  and  powers  of  persuasion 
that  drew  the  hearts  of  men  to  him.  The  kings,  nowever, 
were  consulted  about  his  return,  and  they  hoped  that  in  his 
presence  they  should  experience  less  insolence  amongst  the 
people.  Returning  then  to  a  city  thus  disposed,  lie  imme 
diately  applied  himself  to  alter  the  whole  frame  of  the  consti¬ 
tution;  sensible  that  a  partial  change,  and  the  introducing  of 
some  new  laws,  would  be  of  no  sort  of  advantage;  but  as  in 
the  case  of  a  body  diseased  and  full  of  bad  humours,  whose 
temperament  is  to  be  corrected  and  new  formed  by  medicines, 
it  was  necessary  to  begin  a  new  regimen.  With  these  senti¬ 
ments  he  went  to  Delphi;  and  when  he  had  offered  sacrifice 
and  consulted  the  god,*  he  returned  with  that  celebrated  ora¬ 
cle,  in  which  the  priestess  called  him:  u  Beloved  of  the  gods, 
and  rather  a  god  than  a  man.”  As  to  his  request  that  he  might 
enact  good  laws,  she  told  him  Apollo  had  heard  his  request, 
and  promised  that  the  constitution  he  should  establish,  would 
be  the  most  excellent  in  the  world.  Thus  encouraged,  he  ap¬ 
plied  to  the  nobility,  and  desired  them  to  put  their  hands  to 
the  work;  addressing  himself  privately  at  first  to  his  friends, 
and  afterwards,  by  degrees,  trying  the  disposition  of  others, 
and  preparing  them  to  concur  in  the  business.  When  matters 
were  ripe,  he  ordered  thirty  of  the  principal  citizens  to  appear 
armed  in  the  market  place  by  break  of  day,  to  strike  terror 
into  such  as  might  desire  to  oppose  him.  Hermippus  has  giv¬ 
en  us  the  names  of  twenty  of  the  most  eminent  of  them;  but  he 
that  had  the  greatest  share  in  the  whole  enterprise,  and  gave 
Lycurgus  the  best  assistance  in  the  establishing  of  his  laws, 
was  called  Arithmiades.  Upon  the  first  alarm  king  Charilaus, 
apprehending  it  to  be  a  design  against  his  person,  took  refuge 

persuaded  of  the  transmigration  of  the  soul,  and  a  happy  one  for  themselves, 
that  they  used  to  commit  themselves  to  the  flames,  when  they  had  lived  to 
satiety,  or  were  apprehensive  of  any  misfortune.  But  we  are  afraid  it  w?s 
vanity  that  induced  one  of  them  to  burn  himself  before  Alexander  the 
Great,  and  another  to  do  the  same  before  Augustus  Csesar. 

*  As  Minos  had  persuaded  the  Cretans,  that  his  laws  were  delivered  to 
him  from  Jupiter,  so  Lycurgus,  his  imitator,  was  willing  to  make  the  Spar¬ 
tans  believe  that  he  did  every  tiling  by  the  direction  of  Apollo.  Other 
legislatures  have  found  it  very  convenient  to  propagate  an  opinion  that  their 
institutions  were  from  the  gods.  For  that  self-love  in  human  nature,  which 
would  but  ill  have  borne  with  the  superiority  of  genius,  that  must  have  been 
acknowledged  in  an  unassisted  lawgiver,  found  an  ease  and  satisfaction  in 
admitting  his  new  regulations,  when  they  were  said  to  come  from  heaven 


102 


LYCURGUS. 


m  the  Chalcioicos .*  But  he  was  soon  satisfied,  and  accepted 
of  their  oath.  Nay,  so  far  from  being  obstinate,  he  joined  in 
the  undertaking.  Indeed,  he  was  so  remarkable  for  the  gen¬ 
tleness  of  his  disposition,  that  Archelaus,  his  partner  in  the 
throne,  is  reported  to  have  said  to  some  that  were  praising  the 
young  king, — u  Yes,  Charilaus  is  a  good  man  to  be  sure,  who 
can  not  find  in  his  heart  to  punish  the  bad.”  Among  the  many 
new  institutions  of  Lycurgus,  the  first  and  most  important 
was  that  of  a  senate ;  which  sharing,  as  PJato  says,t  in  the 
power  of  the  kings,  too  imperious  and  unrestrained  before,  and 
naving  equal  authority  with  them,  was  the  means  of  keeping 
them  within  the  bounds  of  moderation,  and  highly  contribut¬ 
ed  to  the  preservation  of  the  state;  for  before  it  had  been  veer¬ 
ing  and  unsettled,  sometimes  inclining  to  arbitrary  power,  and 
sometimes  towards  a  pure  democracy;  but  this  establishment 
of  a  senate,  an  intermediate  body,  like  ballast,  kept  it  in  a  just 
equilibrium,  and  put  it  in  a  safe  posture;  the  twenty-eight 
senators  adhering  to  the  kings,  whenever  they  saw  the  people 
too  encroaching,  and  on  the  other  hand,  supporting  the  peo¬ 
ple,  when  the  kings  attempted  to  make  themselves  absolute. 
This,  according  to  Aristotle,  was  the  number  of  senators  fixed 
upon,  because  two  of  the  thirty  associates  of  Lycurgus  desert¬ 
ed  the  business  through  fear.  But  Sphaerus  tells  us  there 
were  only  twenty-eight  at  first  entrusted  with  the  design. 
Something,  perhaps,  there  is  in  its  being  a  perfect  number, 
formed  of  seven  multiplied  by  four,  and  withal  the  first  num- 

*  That  is,  the  brazen  temple.  It  was  standing  in  the  time  of  Pausanias, 
who  lived  in  the  reign  of  Marcus  Antoninus. 

I  The  passage  to  which  Plutarch  refers,  is  in  Plato’s  third  book  of  laws , 
where  he  is  examining  into  the  causes  of  the  downfall  of  states.  An  Athe¬ 
nian  is  introduced  thus  speaking  to  a  Lacedaemonian: — “  Some  god,  I  be¬ 
lieve,  in  his  care  for  your  state,  and  in  his  foresight  of  what  would  happen, 
has  given  you  two  kings  of  the  same  family,  in  order  that,  reigning  jointly, 
they  might  govern  with  the  more  moderation,  and  Sparta  experience  the 
greater  tranquillity.  After  this,  when  the  regal  authority  was  grown  again 
too  absolute  and  imperious,  a  divine  spirit  residing  in  a  human  nature  (i.  e. 
Lycurgus),  reduced  it  within  the  bounds  of  equity  and  moderation,  by  the 
wise  provision  of  a  senate,  whose  authority  was  to  be  equal  to  that  of  the 
kings.”  Aristotle  finds  fault  with  this  circumstance  in  the  institution  of  the 
senate,  that  the  senators  were  to  continue  for  life;  for  as  the  mind  grows  old 
with  the  body,  he  thought  it  unreasonable  to  put  the  fortunes  of  the  citizens 
into  the  power  of  men  who  through  age  might  become  incapable  of  judg¬ 
ing.  He  likewise  thought  it  very  unreasonable  that  they  were  not  made  ac¬ 
countable  for  their  actions.  But  for  the  latter  inconvenience  srfficient  pro¬ 
vision  seems  to  have  been  made  afterwards,  by  the  institution  of  the  Ephori , 
wdio  had  it  chiefly  in  charge  to  defend  the  rights  of  the  people;  and  there¬ 
fore  Plato  adds, — “  A  third  blessing  to  Sparta  wras  the  prince,  who  finding 
the  power  of  the  senate  and  the  kings  too  arbitrary  and  uncontrolled,  con 
trived  the  authority  of  the  Ephori,  as  a  restraint  upon  it,”  &c. 


LYCURGUS. 


103 


ber  after  six,  that  is  equal  to  all  its  parts.  But  I  rather  think, 
just  so  many  senators  were  created,  that,  together  with  the 
two  kings,  the  whole  body  might  consist  of  thirty  members 

He  had  this  institution  so  much  at  heart,  that  he  obtained 
from  Delphi  an  oracle  in  its  behalf,  called  rhetra ,  or  the  decree . 
This  was  couched  in  very  ancient  and  uncommon  terms,  which 
interpreted  ran  thus;  66  When  you  have  built  a  temple  to  the 
Syllanian  Jupiter  and  the  Syllanian  Minerva,*  divided  the 
people  into  tribes  and  classes,  and  established  a  senate  of  thirty 
persons,  including  the  two  kings,  you  shall  occasionally  sum¬ 
mon  the  people  to  an  assembly  between  Babyce  and  Cnacion, 
and  they  shall  have  the  determining  voice.”  Babyce  and 
Cnacion  are  now  called  CEnus;  but  Aristotle  thinks,  by  Cna¬ 
cion  is  meant  the  river,  and  by  Babyce  the  bridge.  Between 
these  they  held  their  assemblies,  having  neither  halls,  nor 
any  kind  of  building  for  that  purpose.  These  things  he 
thought  of  no  advantage  to  their  councils,  but  rather  a  disser¬ 
vice,  as  they  distracted  the  attention,  and  turned  it  upon  trifles, 
on  observing  the  statues  and  pictures,  the  splendid  roofs,  and 
every  other  theatrical  ornament.  The  people  thus  assembled 
had  no  right  to  propose  any  subject  of  debate,  and  were  only 
authorized  to  ratify  or  reject  what  might  be  proposed  to  them 
by  the.  senate  and  the  kings.  But  because,  in  process  of  time, 
the  people,  by  additions  or  retrenchments,  changed  the  terms, 
and  perverted  the  sense  of  the  decrees,  the  kings  Polydorus 
and  Theopompus  inserted  in  the  rhetra  this  clause: — u  If  the 
people  attempt  to  corrupt  any  law,  the  senate  and  chiefs  shall 
retire;”  that  is,  they  shall  dissolve  the  assembly  and  annul 
the  alterations.  And  they  found  means  to  persuade  the  Spar¬ 
tans  that  this  too  was  ordered  by  Apollo,  as  we  learn  fron 
these  verses  of  Tyrtaeus: — 

Ye  sons  of  Sparta,  who  at  Phoebus’  shrine 
Your  humble  vows  prefer,  attentive  hear 
The  god’s  decision.  O’er  your  beauteous  lands. 

Two  guardian  kings,  a  senate,  and  the  voice 
Of  the  concurring  people,  lasting  laws 
Shall  with  joint  power  establish. 

Though  the  government  was  thus  tempered  by  Lycurgus, 
yet  soon  after  it  degenerated  into  an  oligarchy,  whose  power 
was  exercised  with  such  wantonness  and  violence,  that  ii 
wanted  indeed  a  bridle,  as  Plato  expresses  it.  This  curb  the  v 

*  As  no  account  can  be  given  of  the  meaning  of  live  wold  Syllanian >  it  is 
supposed  it  should  be  either  read  Sellasian ,  from  Sellasia,  a  town  of  Lac*»- 
nia  upon  the  Eurotas;  or  else  Hellanian ,  as  much  as  to  say,  the  Grecian  Ju¬ 
piter,  &c. 


104 


LYCURGUS. 


found  in  the  authority  of  the  Ephori ,*  about  a  hundred  and 
thirty  years  after  Lycurgus.  Elatus  was  the  first  invested 
with  this  dignity  in  the  reign  of  Theopompus,  who,  when  his 
wife  upbraided  him  that  he  would  leave  the  regal  power  to 
his  children  less  than  he  received  it,  replied, — “Nay,  but 
greater,  because  more  lasting.”  And  in  fact,  the  prerogative, 
so  stripped  of  all  extravagant  pretensions,  no  longer  occasion 
ed  either  envy  or  danger  to  its  possessors.  By  these  means 
they  escaped  the  miseries  which  befel  the  Messenian  and  Ar- 
give  kings;  who  would  not  in  the  least  relax  the  severity  of 
their  power  in  favour  of  the  people.  Indeed,  from  nothing 
more  does  the  wisdom  and  foresight  of  Lycurgus  appear,  than 
from  the  disorderly  governments,  and  the  bad  understanding 
that  subsisted  between  the  kings  and  people  of  Messene  and 
Argos,  neighbouring  states,  and  related  in  blood  to  Sparta;  for 
as  at  first  they  were  in  all  respects  equal  to  her,  and  possessed 
of  a  better  country,  and  yet  preserved  no  lasting  happiness, 
but,  through  the  insolence  of  the  kings,  and  disobedience  of 
the  people,  were  harassed  with  perpetual  troubles,  they  made 
t  very  evident  that  it  was  really  a  felicity  more  than  human, 
a  blessing  from  heaven  to  the  Spartans,  to  have  a  legislator 
who  knew  so  well  how  to  frame  and  temper  their  govern¬ 
ment,  t  But  this  was  an  event  of  a  later  date. 

*  Herodotus  (1.  i.  c.  65,)  and  Xenophon  f  de  Repub.  Lac.J  tells  us,  the 
Ephori  were  appointed  by  Lycurgus  himself.  But  the  account  which  Plu 
tarch  gives  us  from  Aristotle  ( Polit .  1.  v.)  and  others,  of  their  being  institu¬ 
ted  long  after,  seems  more  agreeable  to  reason;  for  it  is  not  likely  that  Lycur¬ 
gus,  who  in  all  things  endeavoured  to  support  the  aristocracy,  and  left  the 
people  only  the  right  of  assenting  or  dissenting  to  what  was  proposed  to 
them,  would  appoint  a  kind  of  tribunes  of  the  people,  to  be  masters  as  it 
were  both  of  the  kings  and  the  senate.  Some,  indeed,  suppose  the  Ephori 
to  have  been  at  first  the  king’s  friends,  to  whom  they  delegated  their  au¬ 
thority  when  they  were  obliged  to  be  in  the  field.  But  it  is  very  clear,  that 
they  were  elected  by  the  people  out  of  their  own  body,  and  sometimes  out 
of  the  very  dregs  of  it,  for  the  boldest  citizen,  whoever  he  was,  was  most 
likely  to  be  chosen  to  this  office,  which  was  intended  as  a  check  on  the  sen¬ 
ate  and  the  kings.  They  were  five  in  number,  like  the  Quinqueviri  in  the 
republic  of  Carthage.  They  were  annually  elected;  and  in  order  to  effect 
any  thing,  the  unanimous  voice  of  the  college  was  requisite.  Their  authori¬ 
ty,  though  well  designed  at  first,  came  at  length  to  be  in  a  manner  boundless. 
They  presided  in  popular  assemblies,  collected  their  suffrages,  declared  war, 
made  peace,  treated  with  foreign  princes,  determined  the  number  of  forces 
to  be  raised,  appointed  the  funds  to  maintain  them,  and  distributed  rewards 
and  punishments,  in  the  name  of  the  state.  They  likewise  held  a  ccurt  of 
justice,  inquired  into  the  conduct  of  all  magistrates,  inspected  into  the  be¬ 
haviour  and  education  of  youths,  had  a  particular  jurisdiction  over  the  He - 
lotesy  and,  in  short,  by  degrees,  drew  the  whole  administration  into  their  hands. 
They  even  went  so  far  as  to  put  king  Agis  to  death  under  a  form  of  justice, 
«nd  were  themselves  at  last  killed  by  Cleomenes. 

■}•  Whatever  Plutarch  might  mean  by  t ciuta  piv  av  v;n*ov,  it  is  certain  that 


JLYCURGUS. 


105 


A  second  and  bolder  political  enterprise  of  Lycurgus  was  a 
new  division  of  the  lands;  for  he  found  a  prodigious  inequality, 
the  city  overcharged  with  many  indigent  persons  who  had  no 
land,  and  the  wealth  centred  in  the  hands  of  a  few.  Deter 
mined,  therefore,  to  root  out  the  evils  of  insolence,  envy, 
avarice,  and  luxury,  and  those  distempers  of  a  state  still  more 
inveterate  and  fatal,  I  mean  poverty  and  riches,  he  persuaded 
them  to  cancel  all  former  divisions  of  land,  and  to  make  new 
ones,  in  such  a  manner  that  they  might  be  perfectly  equal  in 
their  possessions  and  way  of  living.  Hence,  if  they  were  am¬ 
bitious  of  distinction,  they  might  seek  it  in  virtue,  as  no  other 
difference  was  left  between  them  but  that  which  arises  from 
the  dishonour  of  base  actions  and  the  praise  of  good  ones. 
His  proposal  was  put  in  practice.  He  made  nine  thousand 
lots  for  the  territory  of  Sparta,  wThich  he  distributed  among  so 
many  citizens,  and  thirty  thousand  for  the  inhabitants  of  the 
rest  of  Laconia.'  But  some  say  he  made  only  six  thousand 
shares  for  the  city,  and  that  Polydorus  added  three  thousand 
afterwards;  others,  that  Polydorus  doubled  the  number  ap- 

Eointed  by  Lycurgus,  which  were  only  four  thousand  five 
undred.  Each  lot  was  capable  of  producing  (one  year  with 
another)  seventy  bushels  of  grain  for  each  man,*  and  twelve 
for  each  woman,  besides  a  quantity  of  wine  and  oil  in  propor¬ 
tion.  Such  a  provision  they  thought  sufficient  for  health  and 
a  good  habit  of  body,  and  they  wanted  nothing  more.  A 
story  goes  of  our  legislator,  that  some  time  after,  returning 
from  a  journey  through  the  fields  just  reaped,  and  seeing  the 
shocks  standing  parallel  and  equal,  he  smiled,  and  said  to 
some  that  were  oy, — u  How  like  is  Laconia  to  an  estate  new¬ 
ly  divided  among  many  brothers!” 

After  this  he  attempted  to  divide  also  the  moveables,  in  or 
der  to  take  away  all  appearance  of  inequality;  but  he  soon  per 
ceived  that  they  could  not  bear  to  have  their  goods  directly 
taken  from  them,  and  therefore  took  another  method,  counter 
working  their  avarice  by  a  stratagem.!  First  he  stopped  the 


kingly  power  was  abolished  in  the  states  of  Messene  and  Argos  long  before 
the  tirrlc  of  Lycurgus  the  lawgiver,  and  a  democracy  had  taken  place  in  those 
cities.  Indeed,  those  states  experienced  great  internal  troubles,  not  only 
while  under  the  government  of  kings,  but  when  in  the  form  of  common¬ 
wealths,  and  never,  after  the  time  of  Lycurg-is,  made  any  figure  equal  to 
Lacedaemon. 

*  By  a  man  is  meant  a  master  of  a  family,  whose  household  was  to  subsist 
upon  these  seventy  bushels. 

f  For  a  long  time  after  Lycurgus,  the  Spartans  gloriously  opposed  the 
growth  of  avarice,  insomuch,  that  a  young  man,  who  bought  an  estate  at  a 
great  advantage,  was  called  to  account  for  it,  and  a  fine  set  upon  him;  for, 
besides  the  injustice  he  was  guilty  of,  in  b'  wing  a  thing  for  less  than  it  wa* 

Vol.  t - Q  1 1 


106 


LYCURGTJS. 


currency  of  the  gold  and  silver  coin,  and  ordered  that  they 
should  make  use  of  iron  money  only;  then  to  a  great  quantity 
and  weight  of  this  he  assigned  but  a  very  small  value;  so  that 
to  lay  up  ten  minse,*  a  whole  room  was  required,  and  to  re¬ 
move  it,  nothing  less  than  a  yoke  of  oxen.  When  this  be¬ 
came  current,  many  kinds  of  injustice  ceased  in  Lacedaemon. 
Who  would  steal  or  take  a  bribe,  who  would  defraud  or  rob, 
when  he  could  not  conceal  the  booty,  when  he  could  neither 
be  dignified  by  the  possession  of  it,  nor,  if  cut  in  pieces,  be  serv¬ 
ed  by  its  use?  For  we  are  told,  that  when  hot  they  quenched 
it  in  vinegar,  to  make  it  brittle  and  unmalleable,  and  conse¬ 
quently  unfit  for  any  other  service.  In  the  next  place,  he 
excluded  unprofitable  and  superfluous  arts.  Indeed,  if  he  had 
not  done  this,  most  of  them  would  have  fallen  of  themselves 
when  the  new  money  took  place,  as  the  manufactures  could 
not  be  disposed  of.  Their  iron  coin  would  not  pass  in  the 
rest  of  Greece,  but  was  ridiculed  and  despised;  so  that  the 
Spartans  had  no  means  of  purchasing  any  foreign  or  curious 
wares;  nor  did  any  merchant  ship  unlade  in  their  harbours. 
There  tvere  not  even  to  be  found  in  all  their  country  either  so¬ 
phists,  wandering  fortune-tellers,  keepers  of  infamous  houses, 
or  dealers  in  gold  and  silver  trinkets,  because  there  was 
no  money.  Thus  luxury,  losing  by  degrees  the  means  that 
cherished  and  supported  it,  died  away  of  itself.  Even  they 
who  had  great  possessions  had  no  advantage  from  them, 
since  they  could  not  be  displayed  in  public,  but  must  lie  use¬ 
less  in  unregarded  repositories.  Hence  it  was  that  excellent 
workmanship  was  shown  in  their  useful  and  necessary  furni¬ 
ture,  as  beds,  chairs  and  tables;  and  the  Lacedaemonian  cup, 
called  cothon ,  as  Critias  informs  us,  was  highly  valued,  par¬ 
ticularly  in  campaigns;  for  the  water  which  must  then  of  ne¬ 
cessity  be  drunk,  though  it  would  often  otherwise  offend  the 
sight,  had  its  muddiness  concealed  by  the  colour  of  the  cup, 
and  the  thick  part  stopping  at  the  shelving  brim,  it  came  clear¬ 
er  to  the  lips.  Of  these  improvements  the  lawgiver  was  the 
cause;  for  the  workman  having  no  more  employment  in  mat* 

worth,  they  judged  that  he  was  too  desirous  of  gain,  since  his  mind  was  cm 
ployed  in  getting  at  an  age  when  others  think  of  nothing  but  spending. 

But  when  the  Spartans,  no  longer  satisfied  with  their  own  territories  (a 3 
Lycurgus  had  enjoined  them  to  be,)  came  to  be  engaged  in  foreign  wars, 
their  money  not  being  passable  in  other  countries,  they  found  themselves 
obliged  to  apply  to  the  Persians,  whose  gold  and  silver  dazzled  their  eyes; 
and  their  covetousness  grew  at  length  so  infamous,  that  it  occasioned  the 
proverb  mentioned  by  Plato,  “  One  may  see  a  great  deal  of  money  carried 
into  Lacedaemon,  but  one  never  sees  any  of  it  brought  out  again.” 

*  Thirty-two  pounds,  five  shillings,  and  ten  pence  sterling. 


LYCURGUS.  *  107 

ters  of  mere  curiosity,  showed  the  excellence  of  their  art  in 
necessary  things. 

Desirous  to  complete  the  conquest  of  luxury,  and  extermi¬ 
nate  the  love  of  riches,  he  introduced  a  third  institution,  which 
was  wisely  enough  and  ingeniously  contrived.  This  was  the 
use  of  public  tables,*  where  all  were  to  eat  in  common  of  the 
same  meat,  and  such  kinds  of  it  as  were  appointed  by  law. 
At  the  same  time,  they  were  forbidden  to  eat  at  home,  upon 
expensive  couches  and  tables,  to  call  in  the  assistance  of  butch¬ 
ers  and  cooks,  or  to  fatten  like  voracious  animals  in  private; 
for  so  not  only  their  manners  would  be  corrupted,  but  their 
bodies  disordered;  abandoned  to  all  manner  of  sensuality  and 
dissoluteness,  they  would  require  long  sleep,  warm  baths, 
and  the  same  indulgence  as  in  perpetual  sickness.  To  effect 
this  was  certainly  very  great;  but  it  was  greater  still  to  secure 
riches  from  rapine  and  from  envy,  as  Theophrastus  expresses 
it;  or  rather,  by  their  eating  in  common,  and  by  the  frugality 
of  their  table,  to  take  from  riches  their  very  being;  for  what 
use  or  enjoyment  of  them,  what  peculiar  display  of  magnifi¬ 
cence  could  there  be,  where  the  poor  man  went  to  the  same 
refreshment  with  the  rich?  Hence  the  observation,  that  it 
was  only  at  Sparta,  where  Plutus  (according  to  the  proverb) 
was  kept  blind,  and,  like  an  image,  destitute  of  life  or  motion. 
It  must  further  be  observed,  that  they  had  not  the  privilege 
to  eat  at  home,  and  so  to  come  without  appetite  to  the  public 
repast.  They  made  a  point  of  it  to  observe  any  one  that  did 
not  eat  and  drink  with  them,  and  to  reproach  him  as  an  in¬ 
temperate  and  effeminate  person,  that  was  sick  of  the  com¬ 
mon  diet. 

The  rich,  therefore  (we  are  told),  were  more  offended  with 
this  regulation  than  with  any  other,  and,  rising  in  a  body,  they 
loudly  expressed  their  indignation;  nay,  they  proceeded  so 

*  Xenophon  seems  to  have  penetrated  farther  into  the  reason  of  this  insti¬ 
tution  than  any  other  author,  as  indeed  he  had  better  opportunity  to  do. 
The  rest  only  say,  that  this  was  intended  to  repress  luxury;  but  he  very 
wisely  remarks,  that  it  was  also  intended  to  serve  for  a  kind  of  school  or 
ocademy,  where  the  young1  were  instructed  by  the  old,  the  latter  relating 
the  gTeat  things  that  had  been  performed  within  their  memory,  and  thereby 
exciting  the  growing  generation  to  distinguish  themselves  by  performances 
equally  great. 

But  as  it  was  found  impracticable  for  all  the  citizens  to  eat  in  common, 
when  the  number  of  them  came  to  exceed  the  number  of  the  lots  of  land, 
Dacier  thinks  it  might  have  been  better  if  the  lawgiver  had  ordained  that 
those  public  tables  should  be  maintained  at  the  expense  of  the  public,  as  it 
was  done  in  Crete.  But  it  must  be  considered,  that  while  the  discipline  of 
Lycurgus  was  kept  up  in  its  purity,  they  provided  against  any  inconvenience 
from  the  increase  of  citizens,  by  sending  out  colonies;  and  Lacedaemon  was 
not  burdened  with  poor  till  the  declension  of  that  state. 


105 


LYCURGUS. 


far  as  to  assault  Lycurgus  with  stones,  so  that  he  was  forced 
to  fly  from  the  assembly,  and  take  refuge  in  a  temple.  Un¬ 
happily,  however,  before  he  reached  it,  a  young  man  named 
Alcander,  hasty  in  his  resentments,  though  not  otherwise  ill- 
tempered,  came  up  with  him,  and,  upon  his  turning  round, 
struck  out  one  of  his  eyes  with  a  stick.  Lycurgus  then  stop¬ 
ped  short,  and,  without  giving  way  to  passion,  showed  th°, 
people  hi i  eye  beat  out,  and  his  face  streaming  with  blood. 
They  were  so  struck  with  shame  and  horror  at  the  sight,  that 
they  surrendered  Alcander  to  him,  and  conducted  him  home 
with  the  utmost  expressions  of  regret.  Lycurgus  thanked 
them  for  the  care  of  his  person,  and  dismissed  them  all  except 
Alcander.  He  took  him  into  his  house,  but  showed  him  no 
ill  treatment,  either  by  wTord  or  action,  only  ordering  him  to 
wait  upon  him  instead  of  his  usual  servants  and  attendants. 
The  youth,  who  was  of  an  ingenuous  disposition,  without  mur¬ 
muring,  did  as  he  was  commanded.  Living  in  this  manner 
with  Lycurgus,  and  having  an  opportunity  to  observe  the 
mildness  and  goodness  of  his  heart,  his  strict  temperance  and 
indefatigable  industry,  he  told  his  friends  that  Lycurgus  was 
not  that  proud  and  severe  man  he  might  have  been  taken  for, 
but  above  all  others,  gentle  and  engaging  in  his  behaviour. 
This,  then,  was  his  chastisement,  and  this  punishment  he  suf¬ 
fered,  of  a  wild  and  headstrong  young  man,  to  become  a  very 
modest  and  prudent  citizen.  In  memory  of  his  misfortune 
Lycurgus  built  a  temple  to  Minerva  Optiletis ,  so  called  by  him 
from  a  term  which  the  Dorians  use  for  the  eye.  Yet  Diosco- 
rides,  who  wrote  a  treatise  concerning  the  Lacedaemonian 
government,  and  others,  relate,  that  his  eye  was  hurt,  but  not 
put  out,  and  that  he  built  the  temple  in  gratitude  to  the  god¬ 
dess  for  his  cure.  However,  the  Spartans  never  carried  staves 
to  their  assemblies  afterwards. 

The  public  repasts  were  called  by  the  Cretans  Andria ;  but 
the  Lacedaemonians  styled  them  Phiditia ,  either  from  their  ten¬ 
dency  to  friendship  and  mutual  benevolence,  phiditia  being  used 
instead  of  pkilitia ;  or  else  from  their  teaching  frugality  and 
parsimony ,  which  the  word  pheido  signifies.  But  it  is  not  at  all 
impossible  that  the  first  letter  might  by  some  means  or  other 
be  added,  and  so  phiditia  take  place  of  editia ,  which  barely 
signifies  eating .  There  were  fifteen  persons  to  a  table,  or  a  few 
more  or  less.  Each  of  them  was  obliged  to  bring  in  monthly 
a  bushel  of  meal,  eight  gallons  of  wine,  five  pounds  of  cheese, 
two  pounds  and  a  half  of  figs,  and  a  little  money  to  buy  flesh 
and  fish.  If  any  of  them  happened  to  offer  a  sacrifice  of  first- 
fruits,  or  to  kill  venison,  he  sent  a  part  of  it  to  the  public  table; 
for  after  a  sacrifice  or  hunting,  he  was  at  liberty  to  sup  at  home, 
but  the  rest  wer to  appear  at  the  usual  place.  For  a  long  time 


LYCURGUS 


10S 


this  eating  in  common  was  observed  with  great  exactness;  so 
that  when  king  Agis  returned  from  a  successful  expedition 
against  the  Athenians,  and,  from  a  desire  to  sup  with  his  wife, 
requested  to  have  his  portion  at  home,*  the  Polemarchs  refused 
to  send  it;t  nay,  when  through  resentment,  he  neglected  the 
day  following  to  offer  the  sacrifice  usual  on  occasion  of  victory, 
they  set  a  fine  upon  him.  Children  also  were  introduced  at 
thes  3  public  tables,  as  so  many  schools  of  sobriety.  There  they 
heard  discourses  concerning  government,  and  were  instructed 
in  the  most  liberal  breeding.  There  they  were  allowed  to  jest 
without  scurrility,  and  were  not  to  take  it  ill  when  the  raillery 
was  returned.  For  it  was  reckoned  worthy  of  a  Lacedaemonian 
to  bear  a  jest;  but  if  any  one’s  patience  failed,  he  had  only  to 
desire  them  to  be  quiet,  and  they  left  off  immediately.  When 
they  first  entered,  the  oldest  man  present  pointed  to  the  door, 
and  said, — “  Not  a  word  spoken  in  this  company  goes  out 
there.”  The  admitting  of  any  man  to  a  particular  table  was 
under  the  following  regulation: — Each  member  of  that  small 
society  took  a  little  ball  of  soft  bread  in  his  hand;  this  he  was 
to  drop,  without  saying  a  word,  into  a  vessel  called  caddos , 
which  the  waiter  carried  upon  his  head.  In  case  he  approved 
of  the  candidate,  he  did  it  without  altering  the  figure,  if  not, 
he  first  pressed  it  flat  in  his  hand;  for  a  flatted  ball  was  consid 
ered  as  a  negative;  and  if  but  one  such  was  found,  the  person 
was  not  admitted,  as  they  thought  it  proper  that  the  whole 
company  should  be  satisfied  with  each  other.  He  who  was  thus 
rejected,  was  said  to  have  no  luck  in  the  caddos .  The  dish  that 
was  in  the  highest  esteem  amongst  them  was  the  black  broth. 
The  old  men  were  so  fond  of  it,  that  they  ranged  themselves 
on  one  side  and  ate  it,  leaving  the  meat  to  the  young  people. 
It  is  related  of  a  king  of  Pontus,  J  that  he  purchased  a  Lacedae¬ 
monian  cook,  for  the  sake  of  this  broth.  But  when  he  came 
to  taste  it,  he  strongly  expressed  his  dislike;  and  the  cook  made 
answer,  “  Sir,  to  make  this  broth  relish,  it  is  necessary  first 
to  bathe  in  the  Eurotas.”  After  they  had  drunk  moderately, 
they  went  home  without  lights.  Indeed,  they  were  forbidden 
to  walk  with  a  light,  either  on  this  or  any  other  occasion,  that 
they  might  accustom  themselves  to  march  in  the  darkest  night 

*  The  kings  of  Sparta  had  always  double  commons  allowed  them;  not  that 
they  were  permitted  to  indulge  their  appetites  more  than  others,  but  that 
they  might  have  ail  opportunity  of  sharing  their  portion  with  some  brave 
man  whom  they  chose  to  distinguish  with  that  honour. 

f  The  Polemarchs  were  those  who  had  commanded  the  army  under  the 
kings.  The  principal  men  in  the  state  always  divided  the  commons. 

t  T  his  story  is  elsewhere  told  by  Plutarch  of  Dionysius,  the  tyrant  of  Sw 
city;  and  Cicero  confirms  it,  that  he  was  the  person. 

11* 


110 


LVCURGUS. 


boldly  and  resolutely  Such  was  the  order  of  their  public 
repasts. 

Lycurgus  left  none  of  his  laws  in  writing  ;  it  was  ordered  in 
one  of  the  Rhetrx  that  none  should  be  written:  for  what  he 
thought  most  conducive  to  the  virtue  and  happiness  of  a  city, 
was  principles  interwoven  with  the  manners  and  breeding  o  1 
the  people.  These  would  remain  immoveable,  as  founded  in 
inclination,  and  be  the  strongest  and  most  lasting  tie;  and  the 
habits  which  education  produced  in  the  youth,  would  answer 
in  each  the  purpose  of  a  lawgiver.  As  for  smaller  matters, 
contracts  about  property,  and  whatever  occasionally  varied,  it 
was  better  not  to  reduce  these  to  a  written  form  and  unalter¬ 
able  method,  but  to  suffer  them  to  change  with  the  times,  and 
to  admit  of  additions  or  retrenchments  at  the  pleasure  of  per¬ 
sons  so  well  educated.  For  he  resolved  the  whole  business  of 
legislation  into  the  bringing  up  of  youth.  And  this,  as  we 
have  observed,  was  the  reason  why  one  of  his  ordinances  for¬ 
bade  them  to  have  any  written  laws. 

Another  ordinance,  levelled  against  magnificence  and  ex¬ 
pense,  directed  that  the  ceilings  of  houses  should  be  wrought 
with  no  tool  but  the  axe,  and  the  doors  with  nothing  but  the 
saw.  For,  as  Epaminondas  is  reported  to  have  said  afterwards, 
of  his  table, — u  Treason  lurks  not  under  such  a  dinner;”  so 
Lycurgus  perceived  before  him,  that  such  a  house  admits  not 
of  luxury  and  needless  splendour.  Indeed,  no  man  could  bo 
so  absurd,  as  to  bring  into  a  dwelling  so  homely  and  simple, 
bedsteads  with  silver  feet,  purple  coverlets,  golden  cups,  and 
a  train  of  expense  that  follows  these;  but  all  would  necessarily 
have  the  bed  suitable  to  the  room,  the  coverlet  to  the  bed,  and 
the  rest  of  their  utensils  and  furniture  to  that.  From  this  plain 
sort  of  dwellings,  proceeded  the  question  of  Leotychidas  the 
elder  to  his  host,  when  he  supped  at  Corinth,  and  saw  the  ceil¬ 
ing  of  the  room  very  splendid  and  curiously  wrought,  “  Whe¬ 
ther  trees  grew  square  in  his  country?”* 

A  third  ordinance  of  Lycurgus  was,  that  they  should  not 
often  make  war  against  the  same  enemy,  lest,  by  being  fre¬ 
quently  put  upon  defending  themselves,  they  too  should  be¬ 
come  able  warriors  in  their  turn.  And  this  they  most  blam¬ 
ed  king  Agesilaus  for  afterwards,  that  by  frequent  and  con¬ 
tinued  incursions  into  Boeotiat,  he  taught  the  Thebans  to  make 
head  against  the  Lacedaemonians.  This  made  Antalcidas  say, 

*  This  is  rendered  by  the  former  English  translator,  as  if  Leotychidas’s 
question  proceeded  from  ignorance,  whereas  it  was  really  an  arch  sneer  upon 
the  sumptuous  and  expensive  buildings  of  Corinth. 

f  This  appeared  plainly  at  the  battle  of  Leuctra,  where  the  Lacedaemoni¬ 
ans  were  overthrown  by  Epaminondas,  and  lost  their  king  Cleombrotus,  to¬ 
gether  with  the  flower  of  their  army. 


LVCURGUS. 


Ill 


wnen  he  saw  him  wounded, — u  The  Thebans  pay  you  well 
for  making  them  good  soldiers,  who  neither  were  willing  nor 
able  10  fight  you  before.”  These  ordinances  he  called  Rhe- 
trae,  as  if  they  had  been  oracles  and  decrees  of  the  Deity  him- 
self. 

As  for  the  education  of  youth,  which  he  looked  upon  as  the 
greatest  and  most  glorious  work  of  a  lawgiver,  he  began  with 
it  at  the  very  source,  taking  into  consideration  their  concep¬ 
tion  and  birth,  by  regulating  the  marriages.  For  he  did  not 
(as  Aristotle  says)  desist  from  his  attempt  to  bring  the  women 
under  sober  rules.  They  had,  indeed,  assumed  great  liberty 
and  power  on  account  of  the  frequent  expeditions  of  their  hus¬ 
bands,  during  which  they  were  left  sole  mistresses  at  home, 
and  so  gained  an  undue  deference  and  improper  titles;  but, 
notwithstanding  this,  he  took  all  possible  care  of  them.  He 
ordered  the  virgins  to  exercise  themselves  in  running,  wrest¬ 
ling,  and  throwing  quoits  and  darts;  that  their  bodies  being 
strong  and  vigorous,  the  children  afterwards  produced  from 
them  might  be  the  same;  and  that,  thus  fortified  by  exercise, 
they  might  the  better  support  the  pangs  of  child-birth,  and  be 
delivered  with  safety.  In  order  to  take  away  the  excessive 
tenderness  and  delicacy  of  the  sex,  the  consequence  of  a  re- 
cluse  life,  he  accustomed  the  virgins  occasionally  to  be  seen 
naked  as  well  as  the  young  men,  and  to  dance  and  sing  in 
their  presence  on  certain  festivals.  There  they  sometimes 
indulged  in  a  little  raillery  upon  those  that  had  misbehaved 
themselves,  and  sometimes  they  sung  encomiums  on  such  as 
deserved  them,  thus  exciting  in  the  young  men  an  useful 
emulation  and  love  of  glory.  For  he  who  was  praised  for  his 
bravery,  and  celebrated  among  the  virgins,  went  away  per¬ 
fectly  happy ;  while  their  satirical  glances,  thrown  out  in  sport, 
were  no  less  cutting  than  serious  admonitions;  especially  as 
the  kings  and  senate  went  with  the  other  citizens  to  see  all 
that  passed.  As  for  the  virgins  appearing  naked,  there  was 
nothing  disgraceful  in  it,  because  every  thing  was  conducted 
with  modesty,  and  without  one  indecent  word  or  action.  Nay, 
it  caused  a  simplicity  of  manners  and  an  emulation  for  the 
best  habit  of  body;  their  ideas  too  were  naturally  enlarged, 
while  they  were  not  excluded  from  their  share  of  bravery  and 
honour.  Hence  they  were  furnished  with  sentiments  and  la n- 

Se,  such  as  Gorgo,  the  wife  of  Leonidas,  is  said  to  have 
j  use  of.  When  a  woman  of  another  country  said  to  her, — 
“  You  of  Lacedaemon  are  the  only  women  in  the  world  that 
rule  the  men;”  she  answered, —  uWe  are  the  only  women 
that  bring  forth  men.” 

These  public  dances  and  other  exercises  of  the  young  mai¬ 
dens  naked,  in  sight  of  the  young  men,  were,  moreover  infers- 


11 2 


LYCURGUS. 


tives  to  marriage;  and,  to  use  Plato’s  expression,  drew  them 
almost  as  necessarily  by  the  attractions  of  xove,  as  a  geometri¬ 
cal  conclusion  follows  from  the  premises.  To  encourage  it 
still  more,  some  marks  of  infamy  were  -et  upon  those  who 
continued  bachelors;*  for  they  were  not  permitted  to  see  these 
exercises  of  the  naked  virgins;  and  the  magistrates  command¬ 
ed  them  to  march  naked  round  the  market-place  in  the  win¬ 
ter,  and  to  sing  a  song  composed  against  themselves,  which 
expressed  how  justly  they  were  punished  for  their  disobedi¬ 
ence  to  the  laws.  They  were  also  deprived  of  that  honour 
and  respect  which  the  younger  people  paid  to  the  old;  so  that 
nobody  found  fault  with  what  was  said  to  Dercyllidas,  though 
an  eminent  commander.  It  seems,  when  he  came  one  day 
into  company,  a  young  man,  instead  of  rising  up  and  giving 
him  place  told  him. — u  You  have  no  child  to  give  place  to 
me,  when  I  am  old.” 

In  their  marriages,  the  bridegroom  carried  off  the  bride  by 
violence;  and  she  was  never  chosen  in  a  tender  age,  but  when 
she  had  arrived  at  full  maturity.  Then  the  woman  that  had 
the  direction  of  the  wedding,  cut  the  bride’s  hair  close  to  the 
skin,  dressed  her  in  man’s  clothes,  laid  her  upon  a  mattress, 
and  left  her  in  the  dark.  The  bridegroom,  neither  oppress¬ 
ed  with  wine,  nor  enervated  with  luxury,  but  perfectly  sober, 
as  having  always  supped  at  the  common  table,  went  in  pri¬ 
vately,  untied  her  girdle,  and  carried  her  to  another  bed. 
Having  stayed  there  a  short  time,  he  modestly  retired  to  his 
usual  apartment,  to  sleep  with  the  other  young  men;  and  lie 
observed  the  same  conduct  afterwards,  spending  the  day  with 
his  companions,  and  reposing  himself  with  them  in  the  night, 
nor  even  visiting  his  bride,  but  with  great  caution  and  appre¬ 
hensions  of  being  discovered  by  the  rest  of  the  family;  the 
bride,  at  the  same  time,  exerted  all  her  art  to  contrive  conveni¬ 
ent  opportunities  for  their  private  meetings.  And  this  they 
did  not  for  a  short  time  only,  but  some  of  them  even  had  chil¬ 
dren  before  they  had  an  interview  with  their  wives  in  the 
day-time.  This  kind  of  commerce  not  only  exercised  their 
temperance  and  chastity,  but  kept  their  bodies  fruitful,  and 
the  first  ardour  of  their  love  fresh  and  unabated;  for  as  they 
were  not  satiated  like  those  that  are  always  with  their  wives, 
there  still  was  place  for  unextinguished  desire.  When  he  had 
thus  established  a  proper  regard  to  modesty  and  decorum, 

*  The  lime  of  marriage  was  fixed;  and  if  a  man  did  not  marry  when  lie 
was  of  full  age,  he  was  liable  to  a  prosecution;  as  were  such  also  who  mar¬ 
ried  above  or  below  themselves.  Such  as  had  three  children  had  great  im¬ 
munities,  and  those  that  had  four  were  free  from  all  taxes.  Virgins  were 
married  without  portions,  because  neither  want  should  hinder  a  man,  nor 
riches  induce  him  to  marry  contrary  to  his  inclinations. 


LYCURGUS. 


113 


rvitb  respect  to  marriage,  he  was  equally  studious  to  drive 
from  that  state  the  vain  and  womanish  passion  of  jealousy,  by 
making  it  quite  as  reputable  to  have  children  in  common  with 

Iiersons  of  merit,  as  to  avoid  all  offensive  freedom  in  their  own 
lehaviour  to  their  wives.  He  laughed  at  those  who  revenge, 
with  wars  and  bloodshed,  the  communication  of  a  married 
woman’s  favours;  and  allowed,  that  if  a  man  in  years  should 
have  a  young  wife,  he  might  introduce  to  her  some  handsome 
and  honest  young  man,  whom  he  most  approved  of,  and  whei$ 
she  had  a  child  of  this  generous  race,  bring  it  up  as  his  own] 
On  the  other  hand,  he  allowed,  that  if  a  man  of  character 
should  entertain  a  passion  for  a  married  woman,  on  account 
of  her  modesty,  and  the  beauty  of  her  children,  he  might  treat 
with  her  husband  for  admission  to  her  company,'*  that  so 
planting  in  a  beauty-bearing  soil,  he  might  produce  excellent 
children,!  the  congenial  offspring  of  excellent  parents.  For, 
in  the  first  place,  Lycurgus  considered  children,  not  so  much 
the  property  of  their  parents,  as  of  the  state;  and  therefore, 
he  would  not  have  them  begot  by  ordinary  persons,  but  by  the 
best  men  in  it.  In  the  next  place,  he  observed  the  vanity  and 
absurdity  of  other  nations,  where  people  study  to  have  their 
horses  and  dogs  of  the  finest  breed  they  can  procure,  either 
by  interest  or  money,  and  keep  their  wives  shut  up,  that  they 
may  have  children  by  none  but  themselves,  though  they  may 
happen  to  be  doating,  decrepit,  or  infirm.  As  if  children, 
when  sprung  from  a  bad  stock,  and,  consequently,  good  foi 
nothing,  were  no  detriment  to  those  whom  they  belong  to, 
and  who  have  the  trouble  of  bringing  them  up,  nor  any  ad 
vantage,  when  well  descended,  and  of  a  generous  disposition. 
These  regulations  tending  to  secure  a  healthy  offspring,  and, 
consequently  beneficial  to  the  state,  were  so  far  from  en¬ 
couraging  that  licentiousness  of  the  women  which  prevailed 
afterwards,  that  adultery  was  not  known  amongst  them.  A 
saying,  upon  this  subject,  of  Geradas,  an  ancient  Spartan,  is 
Mius  related: — A  stranger  had  asked  him,  “What  punishment 
their  law  appointed  for  adulterers?”  He  answered,  “My 
friend,  there  are  no  adulterers  in  our  country.”  The  other 
replied, — -“  But  what  if  there  should  be  one?”  “Why,  then,” 
says  Geradas,  “  he  must  forfeit  a  bull  so  large,  that  lie 
might  drink  of  the  Eurotas  from  the  top  of  mount  Tagetus.” 
When  the  stranger  expressed  his  surprise  at  this,  and  said, 
“  How  can  such  a  bull  be  found?”  Geradas  answered  with  a 

*  In  this  case  the  kings  were  excepted;  for  they  were  not  at  liberty  to 
lend  their  wives. 

+  The  English  translation,  published  in  1758,  has  here,  to  possess  all  the 
valuable  qualifications  of  their  parents ,  which  is  not  the  meaning  of  ay 
yxctiym  ttai  avyytwe  vroui*;. 

Vol.  i  — — R 


114 


LVCURGUS. 


Mmic, — “How  can  an  adulterer  be  found  in  Sparta?”  This  is 
the  account  we  have  of  their  marriages. 

It  was  not  left  to  the  father  to  rear  what  children  he  pleas 
ed,  but  he  was  obliged  to  carry  the  child  to  a  place  called  Lesche 5 
lobe  examined  by  the  most  ancient  men  of  the  tribe,  who  were 
assembled  there.  If  it  was  strong,  and  well  proportioned, 
they  gave  orders  for  its  education,  and  assigned  it  one  of  the 
nine  thousand  shares  of  land ;  but  if  it  was  weakly  and  deform¬ 
ed,  they  ordered  it  to  be  thrown  into  the  place  called  Jipothetx , 
whicn  is  a  deep  cavern  near  the  mountain  Taygetus;  conclud¬ 
ing  that  its  life  could  be  no  advantage  either  to  itself  or  to  the 
public,  since  nature  had  not  given  it  at  first  any  strength  or 
goodness  of  constitution.*  For  the  same  reason,  the  women 
did  not  wash  their  new-born  infants  with  water,  but  with 
wine,  thus  making  some  trial  of  their  habit  of  body;  imagin¬ 
ing  that  sickly  and  epileptic  childen  sink  and  die  under  the 
experiment,  while  the  healthy  become  more  vigorous  and 
hardy.  Great  care  and  art  was  also  exerted  by  the  nurses; 
for  as  they  never  swathed  the  infants,  their  limbs  had  a  freer 
turn,  and  their  countenances  a  more  liberal  air;  besides,  they 
used  them  to  any  sort  of  meat,  to  have  no  terrors  in  the  dark, 
nor  to  be  afraid  of  being  alone,  and  to  leave  all  ill-humour  and 
unmanly  crying.  Hence  people  of  other  countries  purchased 
Lacedaemonian  nurses  for  their  children;  and  Alcibiades  the 
Athenian,  is  said  to  have  been  nursed  by  Amycla,  a  Spartan. 
But  if  he  was  fortunate  in  a  nurse,  he  was  not  so  in  a  precep 
tor:  for  Zopyrus,  appointed  to  that  office  by  Pericles,  was,  as 
Plato  tells  us,  no  better  qualified  than  a  common  slave.  The 
Spartan  children  were  not  in  that  manner  under  tutors,  pur¬ 
chased  or  hired  with  money,  nor  were  the  parents  at  liberty 
to  educate  them  as  the'’  pleased;  but  as  soon  as  they  were  se¬ 
ven  years  old,  Lycuigus  ordered  them  to  be  enrolled  in  com¬ 
panies,  where  they  were  all  kept  under  the  same  order  and  dis¬ 
cipline,  and  had  their  exercises  and  recreations  in  common.  He 
who  showed  the  most  conduct  and  courage  amongst  them,  wa? 
made  captain  of  the  company.  The  rest  kept  their  eyes  upon 
him,  obeyed  his  orders,  and  bore,  with  patience,  the  punish¬ 
ments  he  inflicted;  so  that  their  whole  education  wa?  an  exer¬ 
cise  of  obedience.  The  old  men  were  present  at  their  diver¬ 
sions,  and  often  suggested  some  occasion  of  dispute  or  quarrel, 

*  The  general  expediency  of  this  law  may  well  be  disputed,  though  it 
suited  the  mertial  constitution  of  Sparta;  since  many  persons  of  weak  con¬ 
stitutions,  make  up  in  ingenuity  what  they  want  in  strength,  and  so  become 
more  valuable  members  of  the  community  than  the  most  robust.  It  seems, 
however,  to  have  had  one  good  effect,  viz.  making  women  veiy  careful  dur* 
ing  their  pregnancy,  of  either  eating,  drinking,  or  exercising  to  excess.  It 
made  them  also  excellent  nurses,  as  is  observed  just  below. 


LYCUKGUS.  115 

that  they  might  observe  with  exactness,  the  spirit  of  each, 
and  their  firmness  in  battle. 

As  for  learning,*  they  had  just  what  was  absolutely  necessa¬ 
ry.  All  the  rest  of  their  education  was  calculated  to  make 
them  subject  to  command,  to  endure  labour,  to  fight  and  con¬ 
quer.  They  added,  therefore,  to  their  discipline,  as  they  ad¬ 
vanced  in  age,  cutting  their  hair  very  close,  making  them  go 
barefoot,  and  play,  for  the  most  part,  quite  naked.  At  twelve 
years  of  age,  their  under-garment  was  taken  away,  and  but 
one  upper  one  a-year  allowed  them.  Hence  they  were  neces¬ 
sarily  dirty  in  their  persons,  and  not  indulged  the  great  favour 
of  baths  and  oil,  except  on  some  particular  days  of  the  year. 
They  slept  in  companies,  in  beds  made  of  the  tops  of  reeds, 
which  they  gathered  with  their  own  hands,  without  knives, 
and  brought  from  the  banks  of  the  Eurotas.  In  winter  they 
were  permitted  to  add  a  little  thistle  down,  as  that  seemed  to 
have  some  warmth  in  it. 

At  this  age,  the  most  distinguished  amongst  them  became 
favourite  companions  of  the  elder  ;t  and  the  old  men  attended 
more  constantly  their  places  of  exercise,  observing  their  trials 
of  strength  and  wit,  not  slightly  and  in  a  cursory  manner,  but 
as  their  fathers,  guardians,  and  governors;  so  that  there  was 
neither  time  nor  place  where  persons  were  wanting  to  instruct 
and  chastise  them.  One  of  the  best  and  ablest  men  in  the  city 

*  The  plainness  of  their  manners,  and  their  being’  so  very  much  addicted 
to  war,  made  the  Lacedaemonians  less  fond  of  the  sciences  than  the  rest  of 
the  Greeks.  If  they  wrote  to  be  read,  and  spoke  to  be  understood,  it  was  all 
they  sought.  For  this  the  Athenians,  who  were  excessively  vain  of  their  learn¬ 
ing,  held  them  in  great  contempt,  insomuch,  that  Thucydides  himself,  in 
drawing  the  character  of  Brasidas,  says,  he  spoke  well  enough  for  a  Lacedae¬ 
monian.  On  this  occasion,  it  is  proper  to  mention  the  answer  of  a  Spartan 
to  a  learned  Athenian,  who  upbraided  him  with  the  ignorance  of  his  country 
— All  you  say  may  he  true ,  and  yet  it  amounts  to  no  more ,  than  that  we  only 
amongst  the  Greeks  have  learned  no  evil  customs  from  you .  The  Spartans, 
however,  had  a  force  and  poignancy  of  expression,  which  cut  down  all  the 
llowers  of  studied  elegance.  This  was  the  consequence  of  their  concise  way 
of  speaking,  and  their  encouraging,  on  all  occasions,  decent  repartee.  Ails 
were  in  no  greater  credit  with  them  than  sciences.  Theatrical  diversions 
found  no  countenance;  temperance  and  exercise  made  the  physician  un¬ 
necessary;  their  justice  left  no  room  for  the  practice  of  the  lawyer;  and 
all  the  trades  that  minister  to  luxury,  were  unknown.  As  for  agriculture, 
and  such  mechanic  business  as  was  absolutely  necessary,  it  was  left  to  the 
slaves. 

j-  Though  the  youth  of  the  male  sex  were  much  cherished  and  beloved,  as 
those  that  were  to  build  up  the  future  glory  of  the  state;  yet,  in  Sparta  it 
was  a  virtuous  and  modest  affection,  untinged  with  that  sensuality  which 
was  so  scandalous  at  Athens  and  other  places.  Xenophon  says,  these  lovers 
lived  with  those  they  were  attached  to,  as  a  father  does  with  his  children,  or 

brothel  with  his  brethren.  The  good  effects  of  this  part  of  Lycurgus’s  in* 
stitutians  were  seen  in  the  union  that  reigned  among  tne  citizens. 


116 


LYCURGUS. 


was,  morecver,  appointed  inspector  of  the  youth;  ai.kl  he  gave 
the  command  of  each  company  to  the  discreetest  and  most 
spirited  of  those  called  Irens.  An  Iren  was  one  that  had  been 
two  years  out  of  the  class  of  boys;  a  Melliren  one  of  the  oldest 
lads.  This  Iren ,  then  a  youth  twenty  years  old,  gives  orders 
to  those  under  his  command,  in  their  little  battles,  and  has 
them  to  serve  him  at  his  house.  He  sends  the  oldest  of  them 
to  fetch  wood,  and  the  younger  to  gather  pot-herbs;  these  they 
steal  where  they  can  find  them,*  either  slyly  getting  into  gar¬ 
dens,  or  else  craftily  and  warily  creeping  to  the  common  tables; 
but  if  any  one  be  caught,  he  is  severely  flogged  for  negligence 
or  want  of  dexterity.  They  steal  too  whatever  victuals  they 
possibly  can,  ingeniously  contriving  to  do  it  when  persons  are 
asleep,  or  keep  but  indifferent  watch.  If  they  are  discovered, 
they  are  punished,  not  only  with  whipping,  but  with  hunger. 
Indeed,  their  supper  is  but  slender  at  all  times,  that,  to  fence 
against  want,  they  may  be  forced  to  exercise  their  courage 
and  address.  This  is  the  first  intention  of  their  spare  diet;  a 
subordinate  one  is,  to  make  them  grow  tall;  for  when  the  ani¬ 
mal  spirits  are  not  too  much  oppressed  by  a  great  quantity  of 
food,  which  stretches  itself  out  in  breadth  and  thickness,  they 
mount  upwards  by  their  natural  lightness,  and  the  body  easily 
and  freely  shoots  up  in  height.  This  also  contributes  to  make 
them  handsome;  for  thin  and  slender  habits  yield  more  freely 
to  nature,  which  then  gives  a  fine  proportion  to  the  limbs; 
whilst  the  heavy  and  gross  resist  her  by  their  weight.  So 
women  that  take  physic  during  their  pregnancy,  have  slighter 
children  indeed,  but.  of  a  finer  and  more  delicate  turn,  because 
the  suppleness  of  the  matter  more  readily  obeys  the  plastic 
power.  However,  these  are  speculations  which  we  shall  leave 
to  others. 

The  boys  steal  with  so  much  caution,  that  one  of  them,  nav 
ing  conveyed  a  young  fox  under  his  garment,  suffered  the 
cieature  to  tear  out  his  bowels  with  his  teeth  and  claws,  choos¬ 
ing  rather  to  die  than  to  be  detected.  Nor  does  this  appear 
incredible,  if  wre  consider  what  their  young  men  can  endure  to 
this  day;  for  we  have  seen  many  of  them  expire  under  the 
lash  at  the  altar  of  Diana  OrlhiaA 

*  Not  that  the  Spartans  authorized  thefts  and  robberies;  for  as  all  was  in 
common  in  their  republic,  those  vices  could  have  no  place  there.  But  the 
design  was  to  accustom  children  who  were  destined  for  war,  to  surprise  the 
vigilance  of  those  who  watched  over  them,  and  to  expose  themselves  cour¬ 
ageously  to  the  severest  punishments,  in  case  they  failed  of  that  dexterity 
which  was  exacted  of  them.  A  dexterity  that  would  have  been  attended 
with  fatal  effects  to  the  morals  of  any  youth  but  the  Spartan,  educated  as 
that  was  to  contemn  riches  and  superfluities,  and  guarded  in  all  other  re¬ 
spects  by  the  severest  virtue. 

t  This  is  supposed  to  be  the  Diana  Taurica%  whose  statue  Orestes  is  said 


LYCURGUS. 


11V 

The  Iren ,  reposing  himself  after  supper,  used  to  order  one 
of  the  boys  to  sing  a  song;  to  another  he  put  some  question 
which  required  a  judicious  answer;  for  example,  “  Who  was 
the  best  man  in  the  city?”  or  66  What  he  thought  of  such  an 
action?”  This  accustomed  them  from  their  childhood  to  judge 
of  the  virtues,  to  enter  into  the  affairs  of  their  countrymen. 
For  if  one  of  them  was  asked,  Who  is  a  good  citizen,  or  who 
an  infamous  one?  and  hesitated  in  his  answer,  he  was  consi 
dered  as  a  boy  of  slow  parts,  and  of  a  soul  that  would  not  as¬ 
pire  to  honour.  The  answer  was  likewise  to  have  a  reason 
assigned  for  it,  and  proof  conceived  in  few  words.  He 
whose  account  of  the  matter  was  wrong,  by  way  of  punish¬ 
ment,  had  his  thumb  bit  by  the  Iren .  The  old  men  and  ma¬ 
gistrates  often  attended  these  little  trials,  to  see  whether  the 
Iren  exercised  his  authority  in  a  rational  and  proper  manner. 
He  was  permitted,  indeed,  to  inflict  the  penalties;  but  when 
the  boys  were  gone,  he  was  to  be  chastised  himself,  if  he  had 
punished  them  either  with  too  much  severity  or  remissness. 

The  adopters  of  favourites  also  shared  both  in  the  honoui 
and  disgrace  of  their  boys;  and  one  of  them  is  said  to  have 
been  mulcted  by  the  magistrates,  because  the  boy  whom  he 
had  taken  into  his  affections,  let  some  ungenerous  word  or  cry 
escape  him  as  he  was  fighting.  This  love  was  so  honourable, 
and  in  so  much  esteem,  that  the  virgins  too  had  their  lovers 
amongst  the  most  virtuous  matrons.  A  competition  of  affec¬ 
tion  caused  no  misunderstanding,  but  rather  a  mutual  friend¬ 
ship  between  those  that  had  fixed  their  regards  upon  the  same 
youth,  and  an  united  endeavour  to  make  him  as  accomplished 
as  possible. 

The  boys  were  also  taught  to  use  sharp  repartee,  seasoned 
with  humour;  and  whatever  they  said,  was  to  be  concise  and 
pithy.  For  Lycurgus,  as  we  have  observed,  fixed  but  a  small 
value  on  a  considerable  quantity  of  his  iron-money;  but,  on 
the  contrary,  the  worth  of  speech  was  to  consist  in  its  being 
comprised  in  a  few  plain  words,  pregnant  with  a  great  deal  of 
sense;  and  he  contrived,  that  by  long  silence,  they  might  learn 
to  be  sententious  and  acute  in  their  replies.  As  debauchery 
often  causes  weakness  and  sterility, in  the  body,  so  the  intern- 


to  have  brought  to  Lacedaemon,  and  to  whom  human  victims  were  offered. 
It  is  pretended  that  Lycurgus  abolished  these  sacrifices,  and  substituted  in 
their  room  the  flagellation  of  young  men,  with  whose  blood  the  altar  was, 
at  least,  to  be  sprinkled.  But,  in  truth,  a  desire  of  overcoming  all  the  weak¬ 
nesses  of  human  nature,  and,  thereby,  rendering  his  Spartans  not  only  su¬ 
perior  to  their  neighbours,  but  to  their  species,  runs  through  many  of  the 
institutions  of  Lycurgus;  which  principle,  if  well  attended  to,  thoroughly 
explains  them,  and,  without  attending  t )  which,  it  is  impossible  to  give  any 
ccount  at  all  of  some  of  them. 


12 


LYCURGUS. 


I1H 

perauce  of  th  e  tongue  makes  conversation  empty  and  insipid. 
King  Agis,  therefore,  when  a  certain  Athenian  laughed  at 
the  Lacedaemonian  short  swords,  and  said, — “  The  jugglers 
would  swallow  them  with  ease  upon  the  stage/’  answered  in 
his  laconic  way,  “And  yet  we  can  reach  our  enemies’  hearts 
with  them.”  Indeed,  to  me,  there  seems  to  be  something  in 
this  concise  manner  of  speaking,  which  immediately  reache* 
the  object  aimed  at,  and  forcibly  strikes  the  mind  of  the  hear 
er.  Lycurgus  himself  was  short  and  sententious  in  his  dis¬ 
course,  if  we  may  judge  by  some  of  his  answers  which  are 
recorded;  that,  for  instance,  concerning  the  constitution: 
When  one  advised  him  to  establish  a  popular  government  in 
Lacedaemon, — “  Go,”  said  he,  “  and  first  make  a  trial  of  it 
in  thy  own  family.”  That  again,  concerning  sacrifices  to  the 
Deity,  when  he  was  asked,  why  he  appointed  them  so  trifling, 
and  of  so  little  value? — “  That  we  may  never  be  in  want,” 
says  he,  “of  something  to  offer  him.”  Once  more,  when 
they  inquired  of  him,  what  sort  of  martial  exercises  he  allow¬ 
ed  of,  he  answered, — “  All  except  those  in  which  you  stretch* 
out  your  hands.”  Several  such-like  replies  of  his  are  said  to 
be  taken  from  the  letters  which  he  wrote  to  his  countrymen, 
as  to  their  question, — “  How  shall  we  best  guard  against  the 
invasion  of  an  enemy?”  “  By  continuing  poor,  and  not  de¬ 
siring  in  your  possessions  to  be  one  above  another.”  And  to 
the  question,  whether  they  should  inclose  Sparta  with  walls? — 
“  That  city  is  well  fortified,  which  has  a  wall  of  men  instead 
of  brick.”  Whether  these,  and  some  other  letters  ascribed 
to  him,  are  genuine  or  not,  is  no  easy  matter  to  determine. 
However,  that  they  hated  long  speeches,  the  following  apoph¬ 
thegms  are  a  farther  proof.  King  Leonidas  said  to  one,  who 
discoursed  at  an  improper  time  about  affairs  of  some  con¬ 
cern, — “  My  friend,  you  should  not  talk  so  much  to  the  pur¬ 
pose,  of  what  it  is  not  to  the  purpose  to  talk  of.”  Charilaus, 
the  nephew  of  Lycurgus,  being  asked  why  his  uncle  had 
made  so  few  laws?  answered, — “  To  men  of  few  words,  few 
>aws  are  sufficient.  ”  Some  people  finding  fault  with  Hecatseus 
the  sophist,  because,  when  admitted  to  one  of  the  public  re¬ 
pasts,  he  said  nothing  all  the  time,  Archidamidas  replied, — 
“  He  who  knows  how  to  speak,  knows  also  when  to  speak.” 

The  manner  of  their  repartees,  which,  as  I  said,  were  sea 
soned  with  humour,  may  be  gathered  from  these  instances. 
When  a  troublesome  fellow  was  pestering  Demaratus  with 
impertinent  questions,  and  this  in  particular  several  times  re¬ 
peated, — “Who  is  the  best  man  in  Sparta?”  he  answered, — 
He  that  is  least  like  you.”  To  some  who  were  commending 

*  This  was  the  form  of  demanding  quarter  in  battle. 


LYCURGUS. 


119 


.he  Eleans  /or  managing  the  Olympic  games  with  so  mucn 
justice  and  propriety,  Agis  said, — “  What  great  matter  is  it, 
if  the  Eleans  do  justice  once  in  five  years?”  When  a  stranger 
was  professing  his  regard  foi  Theopompus,  and  saying  that 
his  own  countrymen  called  him  Philolacon  (a  lover  of  the  La¬ 
cedaemonians),  the  king  answered  him, — “  My  good  friend, 
it  were  much  better  if  they  called  you  Philopolites”  (a  lover 
of  your  own  countrymen).  Plistonax,  the  son  of  Pausanias, 
replied  to  an  orator  of  Athens,  who  said  the  Lacedaemonians 
Had  no  learning, — “  True,  for  we  are  the  only  people  of 
Greece  that  have  learnt  no  ill  of  you.”  To  one  who  asked 
what  number  of  men  their  was  in  Sparta,  Archidamidas  said, 
6 6  Enough  to  keep  bad  men  at  a  distance.” 

Even  when  they  indulged  a  vein  of  pleasantry,  one  might 
perceive,  that  they  would  not  use  one  unnecessary  word,  nor 
let  an  expression  escape  them  that  had  not  some  sense  worth 
attending  to.  For  one  being  asked  to  go  and  hear  a  person 
who  imitated  the  nightingale  to  perfection,  answered, — “  I 
nave  heard  the  nightingale  herself.”  Another  said,  upon 
reading  this  epitaph: 

Victims  of  Mars,  at  Selinus  they  fell, 

Who  quench’d  the  rage  of  tyranny - 

“  And  they  deserved  to  fall,  for,  instead  of  quenching  it,  they 
should  have  let  it  burn  out.”  A  young  man  answered  one 
that  promised  him  some  game  cocks  that  would  stand  their 
death, — “  Give  me  those~  that  will  be  the  death  of  others.” 
Another,  seeing  some  people  carried  into  the  country  in  lit¬ 
ters,  said, — ((  May  I  never  sit  in  any  place  where  I  can  not 
rise  before  the  aged!”  This  was  the  manner  of  their  apoph¬ 
thegms;  so  that  it  has  been  justly  enough  observed,  that  the 
term  lakonizein  (to  act  the  Lacedaemonian)  is  to  be  referred 
rather  to  the  exercises  of  the  mind,  than  those  of  the  body. 

Nor  were  poetry  and  music  less  cultivated  among  them, 
than  a  concise  dignity  of  expression.  Their  songs  had  a  spirit, 
which  could  rouse  the  soul,  and  impel  it  in  an  enthusiastic  man¬ 
ner  to  action.  The  language  was  plain  and  manly,  the  sub¬ 
ject  serious  and  moral.  For  they  consisted  chiefly  of  the 
praises  of  heroes  that  had  died  for  Sparta,  or  else  of  expres¬ 
sions  of  detestation  for  such  wretches  as  had  declined  the  glo¬ 
rious  opportunity,  and  rather  chose  to  drag  on  life  in  misery 
and  contempt.  Nor  did  they  forget  to  express  an  ambition 
for  glory  suitable  to  their  respective  ages.  Of  this  it  may  not 
be  amiss  to  give  an  instance.  There  were  three  choirs  on 
their  festivals,  corresponding  with  the  three  ages  of  man 
The  old  men  began: — 


120 


LYCURGUS. 


Once  in  battle  bold  we  shone; 

the  young  men  answered, — 

Try  ns,  our  vigour  is  not  gone; 

and  the  boys  concluded, — 

The  palm  remains  for  us  alone, 

i  ndeed,  if  we  consider  with  some  attention  such  oi  the  Lace¬ 
daemonian  poems  as  are  still  extant,  and  get  into  those  airs 
which  were  played  upon  the  flute  when  they  marched  to  battle, 
we  must  agree  that  Terpander*  and  Pindar  have  very  fitly 
joined  valour  and  music  together.  The  former  thus  speaks  of 
Lacedaemon: — 

There  gleams  the  youth’s  bright  falchion;  there  the  muse 
Lifts  her  sweet  voice;  there  awful  Justice  opes 
Her  wide  pavilion. 

And  Pindar  sings: — 

There  in  grave  council  sits  the  sage; 

There  burns  the  youth’s  resistless  rage 
To  hurl  the  quiv’ring  lance ; 

The  Muse  with  glory  crowns  their  arms, 

And  Melody  exerts  her  charms. 

And  Pleasure  leads  the  dance. 

Thus  we  are  informed,  not  only  of  their  warlike  turn,  but 
their  skill  in  music.  For  as  the  Spartan  poet  says: — 

To  swell  the  bold  notes  of  the  lyre 
Becomes  the  warrior's  lofty  fire. 


And  the  king  always  offered  sacrifice  to  the  Musest  before  a 
battle,  putting  his  troops  in  mind,  I  suppose,  of  their  early 
education,  and  of  the  judgment  that  would  be  passed  upon 
them,  as  well  as  that  those  divinities  might  teach  them  to 
despise  danger,  while  they  performed  some  exploit  fit  for  them 
to  celebrate. 

On  those  occasions^  they  relaxed  the  severity  of  their  dis- 

*  Terpander  was  a  poet  and  musician  too  (as,  indeed,  they  of  those  times 
were  in  general),  who  added  three  strings  to  the  harp,  which  till  then  had 
but  four.  He  flourished  about  a  hundred  and  twenty  years  after  Homer. 

•f-  Xenophon  says,  the  king  who  commanded  the  army,  sacrificed  to  Ju¬ 
piter  and  Minerva  on  the  frontier  of  his  kingdom.  Probably  the  Muses 
were  joined  with  Minerva,  the  patroness  of  science. 

t  The  true  reason  of  this  was,  in  all  probability,  that  w  ar  might  be  less 
burdensome  to  them;  for  to  render  them  bold  and  warlike  was  the  reignm 


LYCURGUS, 


121 


cipline,  permitting  the  men  to  be  curious  in  dressing  then 
hair,  and  elegant  in  their  aims  and  apparel,  while  they  ex¬ 
pressed  their  alacrity,  like  horses  full  of  fire,  and  neighing  foi 
the  race.  They  let  their  hair,  therefore,  grow  from  theii 
youth,  but  took  more  particular  care,  when  they  expected  an 
action,  to  have  it  well  combed  and  shining,  remembering  a 
saying  of  Lycurgus,  that 6 6  a  large  head  of  hair  made  the  hand¬ 
some  more  graceful,  and  the  ugly  more  terrible.”  The  exer¬ 
cises,  too,  of  the  young  men,  during  the  campaigns,  were  more 
moderate,  their  diet  not  so  hard,  and  their  whole  treatment 
more  indulgent;  so  that  they  were  the  only  people  in  the  world 
with  whom  military  discipline  wore,  in  time  of  war,  a  gentler 
face  than  usual.  When  the  army  was  drawn  up,  and  the  ene¬ 
my  near,  the  king  sacrificed  a  goat,  and  commanded  them  all 
to  set  garlands  upon  their  heads,  and  the  musicians  to  play 
Castor’s  march,  while  himself  began  the  pgan,  which  was  the 
signal  to  advance.  It  was  at  once  a  solemn  and  dreadful  sight 
to  see  them  measuring  their  steps  to  the  sound  of  music,  and, 
without  the  least  disorder  in  their  ranks,  or  tumult  of  spirits, 
moving  forward  cheerfully  and  composedly,  with  harmony, 
to  battle.  Neither  fear  nor  rashness  was  likely  to  approve  men 
so  disposed,  possessed  as  they  were  of  a  firm  presence  of  mind, 
with  courage  and  confidence  of  success,  as  under  the  conduct 
of  heaven.  When  the  king  advanced  against  the  enemy, 
he  had  always  with  him  some  one  that  liad  been  crowned 
in  the  public  games  of  Greece.  And  they  tell  us,  that  a  La¬ 
cedaemonian,  when  large  sums  were  offered  him  on  condition 
that  he  'Vould  not  enter  the  Olympic  lists,  refused  them;  hav¬ 
ing  with  much  difficulty  thrown  his  antagonist,  one  put  this 
question  to  him, — “JSpartan,  what  will  you  get  by  this  vic¬ 
tory?”  He  answered  with  a  smile, — “  I  shall  have  the  honour 
to  fight  foremost  in  the  ranks  before  my  prince.”  When  they 
had  routed  the  enemy,  they  continued  the  pursuit  till  they 
were  assured  of  the  victory;  after  that  they  immediately  de¬ 
sisted;  deeming  it  neither  generous  nor  worthy  of  a  Grecian,  to 
destroy  those  who  made  no  further  resistance.  This  was  not 
only  a  proof  of  magnanimity,  but  of  great  service  to  their 
cause.  For  when  their  adversaries  found  that  they  killed  such 

passion  of  their  legislator.  Under  this  article  we  may  add,  that  they  were 
forbidden  to  remain  long  encamped  in  the  same  place,  as  well  to  hinder  theii 
being  surprised,  as  that  they  might  be  more  troublesome  to  their  enemies, 
bjr  wasting  every  corner  of  their  country.  They  were  also  forbidden  tc 
fight  the  same  enemy  often.  They  slept  all  night  in  their  armour;  but  their 
out-guards  were  not  allowed  their  shields,  that,  being  unprovided  of  de¬ 
fence,  they  might  not  dare  to  sleep.  In  all  expeditions  they  were  careful 
in  the  performance  of  religious  rites:  and,  after  their  evening  meal  was  over 
the  soldiers  sung  together  hymns  to  their  gods. 

Voi.  j. - S  12* 


122 


LYCURGUS. 


as  stood  it  out,  but  spared  the  fugitives,  they  concluded  it 
*vas  better  to  fly  than  to  meet  their  fate  upon  the  spot. 

Hippias,  the  sophist,  tells  us,  that  Lycurgus  himself  was  a 
man  of  great  personal  valour,  and  an  experienced  commander.  * 
Philostephanus  also  ascribes  to  him  the  first  division  of  the 
cavalry  into  troops  of  fifty,  who  were  drawn  up  in  a  square 
body.  But  Demetrius,  the  Phalerean,  says,  that  he  never  had 
any  military  employment,  and  that  there  was  the  profoundest 
peace  imaginable  when  he  established  the  constitution  of 
Sparta.  His  providing  for  a  cessation  of  arms  during  the 
Olympic  games,  is  likewise  a  mark  of  the  humane  and  peace¬ 
able  man.  Some,  however,  acquaint  us,  and  among  the  rest 
Hermippus,  that  Lycurgus  at  first  had  no  communication  with 
Iphitus;  but  coming  that  way,  and  happening  to  be  a  specta¬ 
tor,  he  heard  behind  him  a  human  voice  (as  he  thought), 
which  expressed  some  wonder  and  displeasure  that  he  did  not 
put  his  countrymen  upon  resorting  to  so  great  an  assembly. 
He  turned  round  immediately,  to  discover  whence  the  voice 
came,  and  as  there  was  no  man  to  be  seen,  concluded  it  was 
from  heaven.  He  joined  Iphitus  therefore;  and  ordering,  along 
with  him,  the  ceremonies  of  the  festival,  rendered  it  more 
magnificent  and  lasting. 

The  discipline  of  the  Lacedaemonians  continued  after  they 
were  arrived  at  years  of  maturity.  For  no  man  was  at  lib¬ 
erty  to  live  as  he  pleased,  the  city  being  like  one  great 
camp,  where  all  had  their  stated  allowance,  and  knew  their 
public  charge,  each  man  concluding  that  he  was  born,  not  for 
himself,  but  for  his  country.  Hence,  if  they  had  no  particu¬ 
lar  orders,  they  employed  themselves  in  inspecting  the  boys, 
and  teaching  them  something  useful,  er  in  learning  of  those 
that  were  older  than  themselves.  One  of  the  greatest  privi¬ 
leges  that  Lycurgus  procured  his  countrymen,  was,  the  en¬ 
joyment  of  leisure,  the  consequence  of  his  forbidding  them  to 
exercise  any  mechanic  trade.  It  was  not  worth  their  while  to 
take  great  pains  to  raise  a  fortune,  since  riches  there  were  of 
no  account;  and  the  Helotes ,  who  tilled  the  ground,  were  an¬ 
swerable  for  the  produce  above  mentioned.  To  this  purpose 
vve  have  a  story  of  a  Lacedaemonian,  who  happening  to  be  at 
Athens  vhile  the  court  sat,  was  informed  of  a  man  who  was 
fined  for  idleness;  and  when  the  poor  fellow  was  returning 
home  in  *reat  dejection,  attended  by  his  consoling  friends,  he 
desired  tie  company  to  show  him  the  person  that  was  con- 


*  Xenophon,  in  his  treatise  cf  the  Spartan  commonwealth,  says,  Lycurgus 
brought  military  discipline  to  great  perfection,  and  gives  us  a  detail  of  his 
regulations  and  improvements  in  the  art  of  war;  some  of  which  I  have  men¬ 
tioned  in  the  foregoing  note. 


LYCURGUS. 


123 


demned  lor  keeping  up  his  dignity.  So  much  beneath  them 
they  reckoned  all  attention  to  mechanic  arts  and  all  desire  ol 
riches! 

Law-suits  were  banished  from  Lacedaemon  with  monty. 
The  Spartans  knew  neither  riches  nor  poverty,  but  possessed 
an  equal  competency,  and  had  a  cheap  and  easy  way  of  sup¬ 
plying  their  few  wants.  Hence,  when  they  were  not  engaged 
in  war,  their  time  was  taken  up  with  dancing,  feasting,  hunting, 
or  meeting  to  exercise,  or  converse.  They  went  not  to  mar¬ 
ket  under  thirty  years  of  age,*  all  their  necessary  concerns 
being  managed  by  their  relations  and  adopters.  Nor  was  it 
reckoned  a  credit  to  the  old  to  be  seen  sauntering  in  the  mar 
ket-place;  it  was  deemed  more  suitable  for  them  to  pass  great 
part  of  the  day  in  the  schools  of  exercise,  or  places  of  con¬ 
versation.  Their  discourse  seldom  turned  upon  money,  or 
business,  or  trade,  but  upon  the  praise  of  the  excellent,  or  the 
contempt  of  the  worthless;  and  the  last  was  expressed  with 
that  pleasantry  and  humour,  which  conveyed  instruction  and 
correction,  without  seeming  to  intend  it.  Nor  was  Lycurgus 
himself  immoderately  severe  in  his  manner;  but,  as  Sosibius 
tells  us,  he  dedicated  a  little  statue  to  the  god  of  laughter,  in 
each  hall.  He  considered  facetiousness  as  a  seasoning  of  their 
hard  exercise  and  diet,  and  therefore  ordered  it  to  take  place 
on  all  proper  occasions,  in  their  common  entertainments  and 
parties  of  pleasure. 

Upon  the  whole,  he  taught  his  citizens  to  think  nothing 
more  disagreeable  than  to  live  by  (or  for)  themselves.  Like 
bees,  they  acted  with  one  impulse  for  the  public  good,  and 
always  assembled  about  their  prince.  They  were  possessed 
with  a  thirst  of  honour,  an  enthusiasm  bordering  upon  insanity, 
and  had  not  a  wish  but  for  their  country.  These  sentiments 
are  confirmed  by  some  of  their  aphorisms.  When  Paedaretus 
lost  his  election  for  one  of  the  three  hundred,  he  went  away 
rejoicing  that  there  were  three  hundred  better  men  than  him¬ 
self  found  in  the  city.t  Pisistratidas  going  with  some  others, 
ambassador  to  the  king  of  Persia’s  lieutenants,  was  asked 
whether  they  came  with  a  public  commission,  or  on  their  own 
account?  to  which  he  answered,  “  If  successful,  for  the  pub¬ 
lic;  if  unsuccessful,  for  ourselves.”  Agrileonis,  the  mother 


*  This  also  is  said  to  have  been  the  age  when  they  began  to  serve  in  the 
&rmy.  But  as  they  were  obliged  to  forty  years  service  before  the  law  ex¬ 
empted  them  from  going  into  the  field,  I  incline  to  the  opinion  of  those 
writers  who  think  that  the  military  age  is  not  well  ascertained. 

f  Xenophon  says,  it  was  the  custom  for  the  Ephori  to  appoint  three  offi¬ 
cers,  each  of  whom  was  to  select  a  hundred  men,  the  best  lie  could  find* 
and  it  was  a  point  of  great  emulation  to  be  one  of  these  three  hundred. 


124 


'YCURGUS. 


of  Brasidas,*  asking  some  Amphipolitans  that  waile  1  upon 
her  at  her  house,  whether  Brasidas  died  honourably,  and  as 
became  a  Spartan?  they  greatly  extolled  his  merit,  and  said, 
there  was  not  such  a  man  left  in  Sparta:  whereupon  she  re* 
plied,  “  Say  not  so,  my  friends;  for  Brasidas  was  indeed  a 
man  of  honour,  but  Lacedaemon  can  boast  of  many  better  men 
than  he.” 

The  senate,  as  I  said  before,  consisted  at  first  of  those  that 
were  assistants  to  Lycurgus  in  his  great  enterprise.  After 
wards,  to  fill  up  any  vacancy  that  might  happen,  he  ordered 
the  most  worthy  man  to  be  selected  of  those  that  were  full 
threescore  years  old.  This  was  the  most  respectable  dispute 
in  the  world,  and  the  contest  was  truly  glorious;  for  it  wa? 
not  who  should  be  swiftest  among  the  swift,  or  strongest  of 
the  strong,  but  who  was  the  wisest  and  best  among  the  good 
and  wise.  He  who  had  the  preference  was  to  bear  this  mark 
of  superior  excellence  through  life,  this  great  authority,  which 
put  into  his  hands  the  lives  and  honour  of  the  citizens,  and 
every  other  important  affair.  The  manner  of  the  election  wTas 
this: — When  the  people  were  assembled,  some  persons,  ap¬ 
pointed  for  the  purpose,  were  shut  up  in  a  room  near  the  place, 
where  they  could  neither  see  nor  be  seen,  and  only  hear  the 
shouts  of  the  constituents;!  for  by  them  they  decided  this  and 
most  other  affairs.  Each  candidate  walked  silently  through 
the  assembly,  one  after  another,  according  to  lot.  Those  that 
were  shut  up  had  writing-tables,  in  which  they  set  down  in 
different  columns  the  number  and  loudness  of  the  shouts, 
without  knowing  who  they  were  for;  only  they  marked  them 
as  first,  second,  third,  and  so  on,  according  to  the  number  of 
competitors.  He  that  had  the  most  and  loudest  acclamations, 
was  declared  duly  elected.  Then  he  was  crowned  with  9 
garland,  and  went  round  to  give  thanks  to  the  gods;  a  num¬ 
ber  of  young  men  followed,  striving  which  should  extol  him 
most,  and  the  women  celebrated  his  virtues  in  their  songs,  and 
blessed  his  worthy  life  and  conduct.  Each  of  his  relations 
offered  him  a  repast,  and  their  address  on  the  occasion  was — 
“  Sparta  honours  you  with  this  collation.”  When  he  had 
finished  the  procession,  he  went  to  the  common  table,  and 
lived  as  before.  Only  two  portions  were  set  before  him,  one 

*  Biasidas,  the  Lacedaemonian  general,  defeated  the  Athenians  in  a  battle 
fought  near  Am  ohipolis,  a  town  of  Macedonia,  on  the  banks  of  the  Stryiron, 
but  lost  his  life  in  the  action. — Thucydid.  lib.  v.- 

j-  As  this  was  a  tumultuary  and  uncertain  way  of  deciding  who  had  the 
majority,  they  were  often  obliged  to  separate  the  people  and  count  the 
votes.  Aristotle  thinks,  that  in  such  a  case,  persons  should  not  offer  them¬ 
selves  candidates,  or  solicit  the  office  or  employment,  but  be  called  to  if 
merely  for  their  abilities  and  their  meri  t. 


LYCURGUS. 


1 23 


of  which  he  carried  away;  and  as  all  the  women  related  to  him 
attended  at  the  gates  of  the  public  hall,  he  called  her  for  whom 
he  had  the  greatest  esteem,  and  presented  her  with  the  por¬ 
tion,  saying  at  the  same  time:  ‘ 6  That  which  I  received  as  a 
mark  of  honour,  I  give  to  you.”  Then  she  was  conducted 
home  with  great  applause  by  the  rest  of  the  women. 

Lycurgus  likewise  made  good  regulations  with  respect  to 
burials.  In  the  first  place,  to  take  away  all  superstition,  life 
ordered  the  dead  to  be  buried  in  the  city,  and  even  permitted 
their  monuments  to  be  erected  near  the  temples,  accustoming 
the  youth  to  such  sights  from  their  infancy,  that  they  might 
have  no  uneasiness  from  them,  nor  any  horror  for  death,  as 
if  people  were  polluted  with  the  touch  of  a  dead  body,  or  with 
treading  upon  a  grave.  In  the  next  place,  he  suffered  nothing 
to  be  buried  with  the  corpse,  except  the  red  cloth  and  the 
olive  leaves  in  which  it  was  wrapped.*  Nor  would  he  suffer 
the  relations  to  inscribe  any  names  upon  the  tombs,  except  ot 
those  men  that  fell  in  battle,  or  those  women  who  died  in  some 
sacred  office.  He  fixed  eleven  days  for  the  time  of  mourning ; 
on  the  twelfth  they  were  to  put  an  end  to  it,  after  offering 
sacrifice  to  Ceres.  No  part  of  life  was  left  vacant  and  unim 
proved,  but  even  with  their  necessary  actions  he  interwove 
the  praise  of  virtue  and  the  contempt  of  vice;  and  he  so  filled 
the  city  with  living  examples,  that  it  was  next  to  impossible 
for  persons  who  had  these  from  their  infancy  before  their  eyes 
not  to  be  drawn  and  formed  to  honour. 

For  the  same  reason  he  would  not  permit  all  that  desired  it, 
to  go  abroad  and  see  other  countries,  lest  they  should  contract 
foreign  manners,  gain  traces  of  a  life  of  little  discipline,  and 
of  a  different  form  of  government.  He  forbade  strangers  toot 
to  resort  to  Sparta,  who  could  not  assign  a  good  reason  for 
their  coming;  not  as  Thucydides  says,  out  of  fear  they  should 
imitate  the  constitution  of  that  city,  and  make  improvements 
in  virtue,  but  lest  they  should  teach  his  own  people  some  evil. 
For  along  with  foreigners  come  new  subjects  of  discourse 

*  iElian  tells  us  (1.  vi.  c.  6,)  that  not  all  the  citizens  indifferently  were 
turied  in  the  red  cloth  and  olive  leaves,  but  only  such  as  had  distinguished 
themselves  particularly  in  the  field. 

f  He  received  with  pleasure  such  strangers  as  came  and  submitted  to  his 
/aws,  and  assigned  them  shares  of  land,  which  they  could  not  alienate.  In* 
deed,  the  lots  of  all  the  citizens  were  unalienable. 

t  Xenophon,  who  was  an  eye-witness,  imputes  the  changes  in  the  Spar¬ 
tan  discipline  to  foreign  manners;  but  in  fact  they  had  a  deeper  root.  When 
the  Lacedemonians,  instead  of  keeping  to  their  lawgiver’s  injunction,  only 
to  defend  their  own  country,  and  to  make  no  conquests,  earned  their  vic¬ 
torious  arms  over  all  Greece,  and  into  Asia  itself,  then  foreign  gold  and  for 
eign  manners  came  into  Sparta,  corrupted  the  simplicity  of  its  institutions, 
iikl  at  last  overturned  that  republic* 


126 


LYCURGUS. 


new  discourse  produces  new  opinions;  and  from  these  there 
necessarily  spring  new  pissions  and  desires,  which,  like  dis¬ 
cords  in  music,  would  disturb  the  established  government. 
He,  therefore,  thought  it  more  expedient  for  the  city  to  keej 
out  of  it  corrupt  customs  and  manners,  than  even  to  preven 
the  introduction  of  a  pestilence. 

Thus  far,  then,  we  can  perceive  no  vestiges  of  a  disregard 
to  right  and  wrong,  which  is  the  fault  some  people  find  with 
the  laws  of  Lycurgus,  allowing  them  well  enough  calculated 
to  produce  valour,  but  not  to  promote  justice.  Perhaps  it  was 
the  Cryptia*  as  they  called  it,  or  ambuscade ,  if  that  was  really 
one  of  this  lawgiver’s  institutions,  as  Aristotle  says  it  was, 
which  gave  Plato  so  bad  an  impression  both  of  Lycurgus  and 
his  laws.  The  governors  of  the  youth  ordered  the  shrewdest 
of  them  from  time  to  time  to  disperse  themselves  in  the  coun¬ 
try,  provided  only  with  daggers  and  some  necessary  provi¬ 
sions.  In  the  day  time  they  hid  themselves,  and  rested  in  the 
most  private  places  they  could  find,  but  at  night  they  sallied 
out  into  the  roads  and  killed  all  the  Helotes  they  could  meet 
with.  Nay,  sometimes  by  day,  they  fell  upon  them  in  the 
fields,  and  murdered  the  ablest  and  strongest  of  them.  Thucy¬ 
dides  relates, in  his  history  of  the  Peloponnesian  war,  that  the 
Spartans  selected  such  of  them  as  were  distinguished  for  theii 
courage,  to  the  number  of  two  thousand  or  more,  declared 
them  free,  crowned  them  with  garlands,  and  conducted  them 
to  the  temples  of  the  gods;  but  soon  after  they  all  disappeared; 
and  no  one  could,  either  then  or  since,  give  account  in  what 


*  The  cruelty  of  the  Lacedaemonians  towards  the  Helotes  is  frequently 
spoken  of,  and  generally  decried  by  all  authors;  though  Plutarch,  who  was  a 
great  admirer  of  the  Spartans,  endeavours  to  palliate  it  as  much  as  may  be. 
These  poor  wretches  were  marked  out  for  slaves  in  their  dress,  their  ges¬ 
ture,  and,  in  short,  in  every  thing.  They  wore  dog-skin  bonnets  and  sheep¬ 
skin  vests;  they  were  forbidden  to  learn  any  liberal  art,  or  to  perform  any 
act  worthy  of  their  masters.  Once  a  day  they  received  a  certain  number  01 
stripes,  for  fear  they  should  forget  they  were  slaves;  and,  to  crown  all,  they 
were  liable  to  this  cryptia ,  which  was  sure  to  be  executed  on  all  such  as 
spoke,  looked,  or  walked  like  freemen;  a  cruel  and  unnecessary  expedient, 
and  unworthy  of  a  virtuous  people.  The  Ephori,  indeed,  declared  war  against 
them.  Against  whom  ?  why,  against  poor  naked  slaves,  who  tilled  their  lands, 
dressed  their  food,  and  did  all  those  offices  for  them  which  they  were  too 
proud  to  do  for  themselves.  Plutarch,  according  to  custom,  endeavours  to 
place  all  this  cruelty  far  lower  than  the  times  of  Lycurgus,  and  alleges  thal 
it  was  introduced  on  account  of  the  Helotes  joining  with  the  Messenians,  af¬ 
ter  a  terrible  earthquake  that  happened  about  467  years  before  the  birth  of 
Christ,  whereby  a  great  part  of  Lacedaemon  was  overthrown,  and  in  which 
above  twenty  thousand  Spartans  perished.'  But  JElian  tells  us  expressly 
''Hist.  Var.  1.  iii.)  that  it  was  the  common  opinion  in  Greece,  that  this  very 
earthquake  was  a  judgment  from  heaven  upon  the  Spartans  for  treating 
these  Helotes  with  such  inhumanity. 


LYCURGUS. 


127 


manner  they  were  destroyed.  Aristotle  particularly  says,  that 
the  Ephorl ,  as  soon  as  they  were  invested  in  their  office,  de¬ 
clared  war  against  the  Helotes ,  that  they  might  be  massacred 
under  pretence  of  law.  In  other  respects  they  treated  them 
with  great  inhumanity;  sometimes  they  made  them  drink  till 
they  were  intoxicated,  and  in  that  condition  led  them  into  the 
public  halls,  to  show  the  young  men  what  drunkenness  was. 
They  ordered  them  to  sing  mean  songs,  and  to  dance  ridicu¬ 
lous  dances,  but  not  to  meddle  with  any  that  were  genteel  and 
graceful.  Thus  they  tell  us,  that  when  the  Thebans  afterwards 
invaded  Laconia,  and  took  a  great  number  of  the  Helotes  pri¬ 
soners,  they  ordered  them  to  sing  the  odes  of  Terpander, 
Aleman,  or  Spendon  the  Lacedaemonian,  but  they  excused 
themselves,  alleging  that  it  was  forbidden  by  their  masters. 
Those  who  say,  that  a  freeman  in  Sparta  was  most  a  freeman, 
and  a  slave  most  a  slave,  seem  well  to  have  considered  the 
difference  of  states.  But,  in  my  opinion,  it  was  in  after-times 
that  these  cruelties  took  place  among  the  Lacedaemonians; 
chiefly  after  the  great  earthquake,  when,  as  history  informs  us, 
the  Helotes ,  joining  the  Messenians,  attacked  them,  did  infinite 
damage  to  the  country,  and  brought  the  city  to  the  greatest 
extremity.  I  can  never  ascribe  to  Lycurgus  so  abominable 
an  act  as  that  of  the  ambuscade.  I  would  judge  in  this  case  by 
the  mildness  and  justice  which  appeared  in  the  rest  of  his 
conduct,  to  which  also  the  gods  gave  their  sanction. 

When  his  principal  institutions  had  taken  root  in  the  man¬ 
ners  of  the  people,  and  the  government  was  come  to  such  ma¬ 
turity  as  to  be  able  to  support  and  preserve  itself,  then,  as 
Plato  says  of  the  Deity,  that  he  rejoiced  when  he  had  created 
the  world,  and  given  it  its  first  motion;  so  Lycurgus  was 
charmed  with  the  beauty  and  greatness  of  his  political  esta¬ 
blishment,  when  he  saw  it  exemplified  in  fact,  and  move  on  in 
due  order.  He  was  next  desirous  to  make  it  immortal,  so  far 
as  human  wisdom  could  effect  it,  and  to  deliver  it  doVn  un¬ 
changed  to  the  latest  times.  For  this  purpose  he  assembled 
all  the  people,  and  told  them,  the  provisions  he  had  already 
made  for  the  state  were  indeed  sufficient  for  virtue  and  happi¬ 
ness,  but  the  greatest  and  most  important  matter  was  still  be¬ 
hind,  which  he  could  not  disclose  to  them  till  he  had  consult¬ 
ed  the  oracle;  that  they  must  therefore  inviolably  observe  his 
laws,  without  altering  anything  in  them,  till  he  returned  from 
Delphi;  and  then  he  would  acquaint  them  with  the  pleasure  of 
Apollo.  When  they  had  all  promised  to  do  so,  and  desired 
nim  to  set  forward,  he  took  an  oath  of  the  kings  and  senators, 
and  afterwards  of  all  the  citizens,  that  they  would  abide  by  the 
present  establishment  till  Lycurgus  came  back.  He  then 
took  his  journey  to  D  dphi 


128 


LYCURGUS. 


When  he  arrived  there,  he  offered  sacrifice  to  the  gods,  and 
consulted  the  oracle,  whether  his  laws  wrere  sufficient  to  pro¬ 
mote  virtue  and  secure  the  happiness  of  the  state.  Apollo  an¬ 
swered,  that  the  laws  were  excellent,  and  that  the  city  which 
kept  to  the  constitution  he  had  established  would  be  the  most 
glorious  in  the  world.  This  oracle  Lycurgus  took  down  in 
writing,  and  sent  it  to  Sparta.  He  then  offered  another  sacri 
fice,  and  embraced  his  friends  and  his  son,  determined  never 
to  release  his  citizens  from  their  oath,  but  voluntarily  there  to 
put  a  period  to  his  life,*  when  he  was  yet  of  an  age  when  life 
was  not  a  burden,  when  death  was  not  desirable,  and  while  he 
was  not  unhappy  in  any  one  circumstance.  He  therefore  de¬ 
stroyed  himself  by  abstaining  from  food,  persuaded  that  the 
very  death  of  lawgivers  should  have  its  use,  and  their  exit,  so 
far  from  being  insignificant,  have  its  share  of  virtue  to  be  con 
sidered  as  a  great  action.  To  him,  indeed,  whose  perform 
ances  were  so  illustrious,  the  conclusion  of  life  was  the  crown 
of  happiness;  and  his  death  was  left  guardian  of  those  invalua¬ 
ble  blessings  he  had  procured  his  countrymen  through  life,  as 
they  had  taken  an  oath  not  to  depart  from  his  establishment 
till  his  return.  Nor  was  he  deceived  in  his  expectations. 
Sparta  continued  superior  to  the  rest  of  Greece  both  in  its  go¬ 
vernment  at  home  and  reputation  abroad,  so  long  as  it  retain¬ 
ed  the  institution  of  Lycurgus;  and  this  it  did  during  the  space 
of  five  hundred  years,  and  the  reign  of  fourteen  successive 
kings,  down  to  Agis  the  son  of  Archidamus.  As  for  the  ap¬ 
pointment  of  the  Ephori ,  it  was  so  far  from  weakening  the 
constitution,  that  it  gave  it  additional  vigour;  and  though  it 
seemed  to  be  established  in  favour  of  the  people,  it  strength 
ened  the  aristocracy.! 

But  in  the  reign  of  Agis  money  found  its  way  into  Sparta, 
and  with  money  came  its  inseparable  attendant,  avarice.  This 
was  by  means  of  Lysander;  who,  though  himself  incapable  of 
being  corrupted  by  money,  filled  his  country  with  the  love  of 
it  and  with  luxury  too.  He  brought  both  gold  and  silver  from 
the  wars,  J  and  thereby  broke  through  the  laws  of  Lycurgus. 

*  Yet  Lucian  says  that  Lycurgus  died  at  the  age  of  eighty-five. 

\  After  all  this  pompous  account,  Plutarch  himself  acknowledges,  that  an 
thors  are  not  well  agreed  how  and  where  this  great  man  died.  That  he 
starved  himself  is  improbable;  but  that  he  returned  no  more  to  his  country, 
seems  to  be  perfectly  agreeable  to  his  manner  of  acting,  as  well  as  to  the 
current  of  history. 

t  Xenophon  acquaints  us,  that  when  Lysander  had  taken  Athens,  he  sent 
to  Sparta  many  rich  spoils  and  470  talents  of  silver.  The  coming  of  tliis  huge 
mass  of  wealth  created  great  disputes  at  Sparta.  Many  celebrated  Lysan- 
der’s  praises,  and  rejoiced  exceedingly  at  tliis  good  fortune,  as  they  called 
it;  others,  who  were  better  acquainted  with  the  nature  of  things,  and  with 
their  constitution,  were  of  quite  another  opinion;  they  looked  upon  the  re- 


LYCURGUS. 


129 


While  these  were  in  force,  Sparta  was  not  so  much  under  the 
political  regulations  of  a  commonwealth,  as  the  strict  rules  of 
a  philosophic  life;  and  as  the  poets  feign  of  Hercules,  that  only 
with  a  club  and  lion’s  skin  he  travelled  over  the  world,  clear¬ 
ing  it  of  lawless  ruffians  and  cruel  tyrants;  so  the  Lacedaemoni¬ 
ans,  with  a  piece  of  parchment*  and  a  coarse  coat,  kept  Greece 
in  a  voluntary  obedience,  destroyed  usurpation  and  tyranny 
in  the  states,  put  an  end  to  wars,  and  laid  seditions  asleep,  very 
often  without  either  shield  or  lance,  and  only  by  sending  one 
ambassador;  to  whose  directions  all  parties  concerned  imme- 
di  itely  submitted.  Thus  bees,  when  their  prince  appears,  com¬ 
pose  their  quarrels,  and  unite  in  one  swarm.  So  much  did 
justice  and  good  government  prevail  in  that  state,  that  I  am 
surprised  at  those  who  say,  the  Lacedaemonians  knew  indeed 
how  to  obey,  but  not  how  to  govern;  and  on  this  occasion 
quote  the  saying  of  king  Theopompus,  who,  when  one  told 
him,  that — “  Sparta  was  preserved  by  the  good  administra¬ 
tion  of  its  kings,”  replied,  “  Nay,  rather  by  the  obedience 
of  their  subjects.  ”  It  is  certain  that  people  will  not  continue 
pliant  to  those  who  know  not  how  to  command;  but  it  is  the 

Eart  of  a  good  governor  to  teach  obedience.  He  who  knows 
ow  to  lead  well,  is  sure  to  be  well  followed;  and  as  it  is  by 
the  art  of  horsemanship  that  a  horse  is  made  gentle  and  tracta 
ble,  so  it  is  by  the  abilities  of  him  that  fills  the  throne  that  the 
people  become  ductile  and  submissive.  Such  was  the  conduct 
of  the  Lacedaemonians,  that  people  did  not  only  endure,  but 
even  desired  to  be  their  subjects.  They  asked  not  of  them 
either  ships,  money,  or  troops,  but  only  a  Spartan  general. 
When  they  had  received  him,  they  treated  him  with  the 
greatest  honour  and  respect;  so  Gylippus  was  revered  by  the 
Sicilians,  Brasidas  by  the  Chalcidians,  Lysander,  Callicrati- 
das,  and  Agesilaus,  by  all  the  people  of  Asia.  These,  and 


ceipt  of  this  treasure  as  an  open  violation  of  the  laws  of  Lycurgus;  and  they 
expressed  their  apprehensions  loudly,  that  in  process  of  time  they  might,  by 
a  change  in  their  manners,  pay  infinitely  more  for  this  money  than  it  was 
worth.  The  event  justified  their  fears. 

*  This  was  the  scytale ,  the  nature  and  use  of  which  Plutarch  explains  ir 
the  life  of  Lysander.  He  tells  us,  that  when  the  magistrates  gave  their  com 
mission  to  any  admiral  or  general,  they  took  two  round  pieces  of  wood, 
both  exactly  equal  in  breadth  and  thickness  (Thucydides  adds  that  they 
were  smooth  and  long1;)  one  they  kept  themselves,  the  other  was  delivered 
to  their  officer.  When  they  had  any  thing1  of  moment  which  they  would 
secretly  convey  to  him,  they  cut  a  long1  narrow  scroll  of  parchment,  and 
rolling*  it  about  their  own  staff,  one  fold  close  upon  another,  they  wrote  their 
business  on  it,  when  they  had  wrote  what  they  had  to  say,  they  took  off  the 
parchment,  and  sent  it  to  the  general;  and  he  applying  it  to  his  own  staff, 
the  characters  which  before  were  confused  and  unintelligible  appeared  then 
very  plainly. 

V ol.  i. - T 


1  3 


130 


LYCURGUS. 


such  as  these,  wherever  they  came,  were  called  moderators 
and  reformers,  both  of  the  magistrates  and  people,  and  Sparta 
itself  was  considered  as  a  school  of  discipline,  where  the  beau¬ 
ty  of  life  and  political  order  were  taught  in  the  utmost  perfec¬ 
tion.  Hence  Stratonicus  seems  facetiously  enough  to  have 
said, — “  That  he  would  order  the  Athenians  to  have  the  con¬ 
duct  of  mysteries  and  processions;  the  Eleans  to  preside  in 
games,  as  their  particular  province;  and  the  Lacedaemonians 
to  be  beaten  if  the  others  did  amiss  ”*  This  was  spoken  in 
jest:  but  Antisthenes,  one  of  the  scholars  of  Socrates,  said 
(more  seriously)  of  the  Thebans,  when  he  saw  them  pluming 
themselves  upon  their  success  at  Leuctra,— “  They  were  just 
like  so  many  school-boys  rejoicing  that  they  had  beaten  their 
master.” 

It  was  not,  however,  the  principle  design  of  Lycurgus,  that 
his  city  should  govern  many  others,  but  he  considered  its  hap¬ 
piness,  like  that  of  a  private  man,  as  flowing  from  virtue  and 
self-consistency;  he  therefore,  so  ordered  and  disposed  it, 
that  by  the  freedom  and  sobriety  of  its  inhabitants,  and 
their  having  a  sufficiency  within  themselves,  its  continuance 
might  be  the  more  secure.  Plato,  Diogenes,  Zeno,  and  other 
writers  upon  government,  have  taken  Lycurgus  for  their  mo¬ 
del;  and  these  nave  attained  great  praise,  though  they  left  only 
an  idea  of  something  excellent.  Yet  he  who,  not  in  idea  and 
in  words,  but  in  fact,  produced  a  most  inimitable  form  of  go¬ 
vernment,  and  by  showing  a  whole  city  of  philosophers,  t  con¬ 
founded  those  who  imagine,  that  the  so  much  talked  of  strict¬ 
ness  of  a  philosophic  life  is  impracticable;  he,  I  say,  stands  in 
the  rank  of  glory  far  before  the  founders  of  all  the  other  Gre¬ 
cian  states.  X  Therefore  Aristotle  is  of  opinion,  that  the  ho¬ 
nours  paid  him  in  Lacedaemon  were  far  beneath  his  merit. 
Yet  those  honours  were  very  great;  for  he  has  a  temple  there, 

*  Because  the  teachers  should  be  answerable  for  the  faults  of  their  pu¬ 
pils.  The  pleasantry  of  the  observation  seems  to  be  this:  That  as  the  La¬ 
cedaemonians  uaed  to  punish  the  parents  or  adopters  of  those  young’  people 
that  behaved  amiss;  now  that  they  were  the  instructors  of  other  nations,  they 
should  suffer  for  their  faults.  Bryan’s  latin  text  has  it,  that  the  Lacedaemo¬ 
nians  should  heat  them .  But  there  is  no  joke  in  that. 

X  Aristotle  and  Plato  differ  in  this  from  Plutarch.  Even  Polybius,  who 
was  so  gTeat  an  admirer  of  the  Spartan  government,  allows,  that  though  the 
Spartans,  considered  as  individuals,  were  wise  and  virtuous,  yet,  in  their  col¬ 
lective  capacity,  they  paid  but  little  regard  to  justice  and  moderation. 

t  Solon,  though  a  person  of  different  temper,  was  no  less  disinterested 
than  Lycurgus.  lie  settled  the  Athenian  commonwealth,  refused  the  sove* 
reignty  when  offered  him,  travelled  to  avoid  the  importunities  of  his  coun¬ 
trymen,  opposed  tyranny  in  liis  old  age,  and  when  he  found  his  opposition 
vain,  went  into  voluntary  exile.  Lycurgus  and  Solon  were  both  great  men; 
but  the  former  had  the  stronger,  the  latter  the  milder  genius:  the  effects  of 
’srlvich  appeivd  in  the  commonwealths  they  founded. 


LYCURGUS. 


131 


and  they  offer  him  a  yearly  sacrifice,  as  a  god.  It  is  also  said, 
that  when  his  remains  were  brought  home,  his  tomb  was 
struck  with  lightning;  a  seal  of  divinity  which  no  other  man, 
however  eminent,  has  had,  except  Euripides,  who  died  and 
was  buried  at  Arethusa  in  Macedonia.  This  was  matter  of 
great  satisfaction  and  triumph  to  the  friends  of  Euripides,  that 
the  same  thing  should  befall  him  after  death,  which  had  for¬ 
merly  happened  to  the  most  venerable  of  men,  and  the  most 
favoured  of  heaven.  Some  say  Lycurgus  died  atCirrha;  but 
Apollothemis  will  have  it  that  he  was  brought  to  Elis  and  died 
there;  and  Timaeus  and  Aristoxenus  write,  that  he  ended  his 
days  in  Crete;  nay,  Aristoxenus  adds,  that  the  Cretans  show 
his  tomb  at  Pergamia,  near  the  high-road.  We  are  told  he 
left  an  only  son  named  Antiorus:  and  as  he  died  without  issue, 
the  family  was  extinct.  His  friends  and  relations  observed 
his  anniversary,  which  subsisted  for  many  ages,  and  the  days 
on  which  they  met  for  that  purpose  they  called  Lycurgidae. 
Aristocrates,  the  son  of  Hipparchus,  relates,  that  the  friends 
of  Lycurgus,  with  whom  he  sojourned,  and  at  last  died  in 
Crete,  burned  his  body,  and,  at  his  request  threw  his  ashes 
into  the  sea.  Thus  he  guarded  against  the  possibility  of  his 
remains  being  brought  back  to  Sparta  by  the  Lacedaemonians, 
lest  they  should  then  think  themselves  released  from  their 
oath,  on  the  pretence  that  he  was  returned,  and  make  innova¬ 
tions  in  the  government.  This  is  what  we  had  to  say  of  Ly¬ 
curgus. 


THE 


LIFE  OF  NUMA. 


There  is  likewise  a  great  diversity  amongst  historians 
about  the  time  in  which  king  Numa  lived,  though  some  fami¬ 
lies  seem  to  trace  their  genealogy  up  to  him  with  sufficient 
accuracy.  However,  a  certain  writer,  called  Clodius,  in  his 
emendations  of  chronology,  affirms,  that  the  ancient  archives 
were  destroyed  when  Rome  was  sacked  by  the  Gauls;  and 
that  those  which  are  now  shown  as  such,  were  forged  in  favour 
of  some  persons  who  wanted  to  stretch  their  lineage  far  back, 
and  to  deduce  it  from  the  most  illustrious  houses.  Some  say, 
that  Numa  was  the  scholar  of  Pythagoras;*  but  others  con¬ 
tend,  that  he  was  unacquainted  with  the  Grecian  literature, 
either  alleging,  that  his  own  genius  was  sufficient  to  conduct 
him  to  excellence,  or  that  he  was  instructed  by  some  barbarian 
philosopher,  superior  to  Pythagoras.  Some,  again,  affirm 
that  Pythagoras  of  Samos  flourished  about  five  generations 
below  the  times  of  Numa;  but  that  Pythagoras  the  Spartan, 
who  won  the  prize  at  the  Olympic  race  in  the  sixteenth 
Olympiad  (about  the  third  year  of  which  it  was  that  Numa 
came  to  the  throne,)  travelling  into  Italy,  became  acquaint¬ 
ed  with  that  prince,  and  assisted  him  in  regulating  the  go¬ 
vernment.  Hence  many  Spartan  customs,  taught  by  Pytha¬ 
goras,  were  intermixed  with  the  Roman.  But  this  mixture 
might  have  another  cause,  as  Numa  was  of  Sabine  extraction 
and  the  Sabines  declare  themselves  to  have  been  a  Lacedaemo¬ 
nian  colony,  t  It  is  difficult,  however,  to  adjust  the  times  ex 

*  Pythagoras  the  philosopher  went  not  into  Italy  till  the  reign  of  the  elder 
Tarquin,  which  was  in  the  fifty-first  Olympiad,  and  four  generations  (a* 
Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  tells  us)  after  Numa. 

*(*  The  same  Dionysius  informs  us,  that  he  found,  in  the  history  of  the  Sa 
bines,  that  while  Lycurgus  was  guardian  to  his  nephew  Euromus  (Charilaus 
it  should  be,)  some  of  the  Lacedzemonians,  unable  to  endure  the  severity 
of  his  laws,  fled  into  Italy,  and  settled  first  at  Pometia;  from  whence  several 
of  them  removed  into  the  country  of  the  Sabines,  and  uniting  with  that  peo 
pie,  taught  them  their  customs;  particularly  those  relating  to  the  conduct 
of  war,  to  fortitude,  patience,  and  a  frugal  and  abstemious  manner  of  living. 
This  colony,  then,  settled  in  Italy  a  hundred  and  twenty  years  before  tbs 
birth  of  Numa. 


NUMA. 


133 


actly,  particularly  those  that  are  only  distinguished  with  the 
names  of  the  Olympic  conquerors;  of  which,  we  are  told, 
Hippias  the  Elean,  made  a  collection  at  a  late  period,  without 
sufficient  vouchers.  We  shall  now  relate  what  we  have  met 
with  most  remarkable  concerning  Numa,  beginning  from  that 
point  of  time  which  is  most  suitable  to  our  purpose. 

It  was  in  the  thirty-seventh  year  from  the  building  of  Rome, 
and  of  the  reign  of  Romulus,  on  the  seventh  of  the  month  of 
July  (which  day  is  now  called  Nonse  Caprotinae,)  when  that 
prince  went  out  of  the  city  to  offer  a  solemn  sacrifice  at  a  place 
called  the  Goat’s-Marsh,  in  the  presence  of  the  senate  and 
great  part  of  the  people.  Suddenly  there  happened  a  great 
alteration  in  the  air,  and  the  clouds  burst  in  a  storm  of  wind 
and  hail.  The  rest  of  the  assembly  were  struck  with  terror, 
and  fled,  but  Romulus  disappeared,  and  could  not  be  found 
either  alive  or  dead.  Upon  this  the  senators  fell  under  a  vio¬ 
lent  suspicion,  and  a  report  was  propagated  against  them 
among  the  people,  that  having  long  been  weary  of  the  yoke 
of  kingly  government,  and  desirous  to  get  the  power  into  their 
own  hands,  they  had  murdered  the  king;  particularly  as  he 
had  treated  them  for  some  time  in  an  arbitrary  and  imperious 
banner.  But  they  found  means  to  obviate  this  suspicion,  by 
paying  divine  honours  to  Romulus,  as  a  person  that  had  been 
privileged  from  the  fate  of  other  mortals,  and  was  only  remov- 
eu  to  a  happier  scene.  Moreover,  Proculus,  a  man  of  high 
rank,  made  oath  that  he  saw  Romulus  carried  up  to  heaven  in 
complete  armour,  and  heard  a  voice  commanding  that  he 
should  be  called  Quirinus. 

Fresh  disturbances  and  tumults  arose  in  the  city  about  the 
election  of  a  new  king,  the  later  inhabitants  being  not  yet 
thoroughly  incorporated  with  the  first,  the  commonalty  fluc¬ 
tuating  and  unsettled  in  itself,  and  the  patricians  full  of  ani¬ 
mosity  and  jealousies  of  each  other.  All,  indeed,  agreed  that 
a  king  should  be  appointed,  but  they  differed  and  debated, 
not  only  about  the  person  to  be  fixed  upon,  but  from  which 
of  the  two  nations  he  should  be  elected.  For  neither  could 
they  who  with  Romulus  built  the  city,  endure,  that  the  Sa¬ 
bines,  who  had  been  admitted  citizens,  and  obtained  a  share 
of  the  lands,  should  attempt  to  command  those  from  whom 
they  had  received  such  privileges;  nor  yet  could  the  Sabines 
depart  from  their  claim  of  giving  a  king  in  their  turn  to  Rome, 
having  this  good  argument  in  their  favour,  that  upon  the  death 
of  Tatius,  they  had  suffered  Romulus  peaceably  to  enjoy  the 
throne,  without  a  colleague.  It  was  also  to  be  considered, 
that  they  did  not  come  as  inferiors  to  join  a  superior  people, 
but  by  their  rank  and  number  added  strength  and  dignity  tc 
the  city  that  received  them.  These  were  the  arguments  or 


134 


NUMA. 


which  they  founded  their  claims.  Lest  this  dispute  should 
produce  an  utter  confusion,  whilst  there  was  no  king,  nor  any 
steersman  at  the  helm,  the  senators  made  an  order  that  the  hun¬ 
dred  and  fifty  members  who  composed  their  body,'*  should 
each,  in  their  turns,  be  attired  in  the  robes  of  state,  in  the 
room  of  Quirinus;  offer  the  stated  sacrifices  to  the  gods,  and 
despatch  the  whole  public  business,  six  hours  in  the  day,  and 
six  hours  at  night.  This  distribution  of  time  seemed  well  con¬ 
trived,  in  point  of  equality  amongst  the  regents,  and  the  change 
of  power  from  hand  to  hand,  prevented  its  being  obnoxious  to 
the  people,  who  saw  the  same  person,  in  one  day  and  one  night, 
reduced  from  a  king  to  a  private  man-  This  occasional  ad¬ 
ministration  the  Romans  call  an  Interregnum. 

But  though  the  matter  was  managed  in  this  moderate  and 
popular  way,  the  senators  could  not  escape  the  suspicions  and 
complaints  of  the  people,  that  they  were  changing  the  govern 
ment  into  an  oligarchy,  and,  as  they  had  the  direction  of  all 
affairs  in  their  hands,  were  unwilling  to  have  a  king.  At  last 
it  was  agreed  between  the  two  parties,  that  one  nation  should 
choose  a  king  out  of  the  whole  body  of  the  other.  This  was 
considered  as  the  best  means  of  putting  a  stop  to  the  present 
contention,  and  of  inspiring  the  king  with  an  affection  for  both 
parties,  since  he  would  be  gracious  to  these,  because  they  had 
elected  him,  and  to  those  as  his  kindred  and  countrymen 
The  Sabines  leaving  the  Romans  to  their  option,  they  prefer 
red  a  Sabine  king  of  their  own  electing,  to  a  Roman  chosen 
by  the  Sabines.  Consulting,  therefore,  among  themselves, t 
they  fixed  upon  Numa  Pompilius,  a  Sabine,  who  was  not  of 
the  number  of  those  that  had  migrated  to  Rome,  but  so  cele¬ 
brated  for  virtue,  that  the  Sabines  received  the  nomination 
even  with  greater  applause  than  the  Romans  themselves.  When 
they  had  acquainted  the  people  with  their  resolution,  they  sent 

*  According1  to  our  author,  in  the  life  of  Romulus,  the  number  of  the 
senators  was  two  hundred.  Indeed,  Dionysius  says,  that  writers  differed 
in  this  particular,  some  affirming*,  that  one  hundred  senators  were  added  to 
the  original  number,  upon  the  union  of  the  Sabines  with  the  Romans;  and 
others,  that  only  fifty  were  added.  Livy  gives  the  most  probable  account 
of  the  manner  of  the  interregnum.  The  senators,  he  says,  divided  them¬ 
selves  into  decuries  or  tens.  These  decuries  drew  lots  which  should  govern 
first;  and  the  decury  to  whose  lot  it  fell,  enjoyed  the  supreme  authority  for 
five  days;  yet,  in  such  a  manner,  that  one  person  only  of  the  governing 
decury  had  the  ensigns  of  sovereignty  at  a  time. 

•j*  The  interrex ,  for  the  time  being,  having  summoned  the  people,  address¬ 
ed  them  thus: — “  Romans,  elect  yourselves  a  king;  the  senate  give  their 
consent;  and,  if  you  choose  a  prince  worthy  to  succeed  Romulus,  the  senate 
will  confirm  your  choice.”  The  people  were  so  well  pleased  with  this  con 
descension  of  the  senate,  tha*  they  remitted  the  choice  to  them., 


NUMA.  L3 

the  most  eminent  personages  of  both  nations  ambassadors,  t.c 
entreat  him  to  come  and  take  upon  him  the  government. 

Numa  was  of  Cures,  a  considerable  city  of  the  Sabines,  from 
which  the  Romans,  together  with  the  incorporated  Sabines, 
took  the  name  of  Quirites .  He  was  the  son  of  a  person  of  dis 
tinction,  named  Pomponius,  and  the  youngest  of  four  brothers. 
It  seemed  to  be  by  the  direction  of  the  gods,  that  he  was  born 
the  twenty-first  of  April,  the  same  day  that  Rome  was  founded 
by  Romulus.  His  mind  was  naturally  disposed  to  virtue;  and 
he  still  farther  subdued  it  by  discipline,  patience  and  philoso¬ 
phy;  not  only  purging  it  of  the  grosser  and  more  infamous 
passions,  but  even  of  that  ambition  and  rapaciousness  which 
was  reckoned  honourable  amongst  the  barbarians ;  persuaded 
that  true  fortitude  consists  in  the  conquest  of  appetites  by 
reason.  On  this  account,  he  banished  all  luxury  and  splen¬ 
dour  from-his  house;  and  both  the  citizens  and  strangers  found 
in  him  a  faithful  counsellor,  and  an  upright  judge.  As  for 
his  hours  of  leisure,  he  spent  them  not  in  the  pursuits  of  plea¬ 
sure,  or  schemes  of  profit,  but  in  the  worship  of  the  gods,  and 
;n  rational  inquiries  into  their  nature,  and  their  power.  His 
name  became  at  length  so  illustrious,  that  Tatius,  who  was 
the  associate  of  Romulus  in  the  kingdom,  having  an  only 
daughter  named  Tatia,  bestowed  her  upon  him.  He  was  not, 
however,  so  much  elated  with  this  match  as  to  remove  to  the 
court  of  his  father-in-law,  but  continued  in  the  country  of  the 
Sabines,  paying  his  attentions  to  his  own  father,  who  was  now 
grown  old.  Tatia  was  partaker  of  his  retirement  and  prefer 
red  the  calm  enjoyment  of  life  with  her  husband  in  privacy, 
to  the  honours  and  distinction  in  which  she  might  have  lived 
with  her  father  at  Rome.  Thirteen  years  after  their  marriage 
she  died. 

Numa  then  left  the  society  of  the  city,  and  passed  his  time 
m  wandering  about  alone  in  the  sacred  groves  and  lawns,  in 
the  most  retired  and  solitary  places.  Hence  the  report  con¬ 
cerning  the  goddess  Egeria  chiefly  took  its  rise;*  and  it  was 

*  Numa’s  inclination  to  solitude,  and  his  custom  of  retiring*  into  the  secret 
places  of  the  forest  of  Aricia,  gave  rise  to  several  popular  opinions.  Some 
believed,  that  the  nymph  Egeria  herself  dictated  to  him  the  laws,  both  civil 
and  religious,  which  he  established.  And,  indeed,  he  declared  so  himself, 
in  order  to  procure  a  divine  sanction  to  them.  But,  as  no  great  man  is  with¬ 
out  aspersions,  others  have  thought,  that,  under  this  affected  passion  for 
woods  and  caves,  was  concealed  another,  more  real  and  less  chaste.  This 
gave  occasion  to  that  sarcasm  of  Juvenal,  in  speaking  of  the  grove  of  Ege¬ 
ria,  (Sat.  iii.  ver.  12,) 

Hie,  ubi  nocturnac  Numa  constituebat  amicae. 

Ovid  says,  that,  to  remove  her  grief  for  the  loss  of  Numa,  Diana  change  J 
ber  into  a  fountain  which  still  bears  her  name. — Metam.  1.  xv. 


136 


NUMA. 


believed  that  it  was  not  from  any  inward  sorrow  or  melan 
choly  turn  that  he  avoided  human  conversation,  but  from  his 
being  admitted  to  that  which  was  more  venerable  and  excel¬ 
lent,  from  the  honour  he  had  of  a  familiar  intercourse  with  a 
divinity  that  loved  mm,  which  led  him  to  happiness  and  kn  dw- 
ledge  more  than  mortal.  It  is  obvious  enough,  how  much 
this  resembles  many  of  the  ancient  stories  received  and  de¬ 
livered  down  by  the  Phrygians  of  Atys,*  the  Bythenians  of 
Herodotus,  and  the  Arcadians  of  Endymion;  to  whom  might 
be  added  many  others,  who  were  thought  to  have  attained  to 
superior  felicity,  and  to  be  beloved  in  an  extraordinary  man¬ 
ner  by  the  gods.  And,  indeed,  it  is  rational  enough  to  sup¬ 
pose,  that  the  deity  would  not  place  his  affection  upon  horses 
or  birds,  but  rather  upon  human  beings,  eminently  distin¬ 
guished  by  virtue;  and  that  he  neither  dislikes  nor  disdains  to 
hold  conversation  with  a  man  of  wisdom  and  piety.  But  that 
a  divinity  should  be  captivated  with  the  external  beauty  of  any 
human  body,  is  irrational  to  believe.  The  Egyptians,  indeed, 
make  a  distinction  in  this  case,  which  they  think  not  an  absurd 
one,  that  it  is  not  impossible  for  a  woman  to  be  impregnated 
by  the  approach  of  some  divine  spirit;  but  that  a  man  can  have 
no  corporeal  intercourse  with  a  goddess.  But  they  do  not, 
however,  consider  that  a  mixture,  be  it  of  what  sort  it  may, 
equally  communicates  its  being.  In  short,  the  regard  which 
the  gods  have  for  men,  though,  like  a  human  passion,  it  be 
called  love,  must  be  employed  in  forming  their  manners,  and 
raising  them  to  higher  degrees  of  virtue.  In  this  sense  we 
may  admit  the  assertion  of  the  poets,  that  Phorbas,t  Hyacin- 
thus,  and  Admetus,  were  beloved  by  Apollo;  and  that  Hip- 
polytus  the  Sicyonian,  was  equally  in  his  favour;  so  that 
whenever  he  sailed  from  Cirrha  to  Sicyon,  the  priestess,  to 
signify  Apollo’s  satisfaction,  repeated  this  heroic  verse: — 

*  Atys  was  said  to  be  beloved  by  the  goddess  Cybele,  and  Endymion  by 
Diana;  but  we  believe  there  is  nowhere  else  any  mention  made  of  this  Hero¬ 
dotus,  or  Rhodotus,  as  Dacier  from  his  manuscript  calls  him. 

j*  Phorbas  was  the  son  of  Triopas,  king  of  Argos.  He  delivered  the  Rho¬ 
dians  from  a  prodigious  number  of  serpents  that  infested  their  island,  and 
particularly  from  one  furious  dragon,  that  had  devoured  a  great  many  peo¬ 
ple.  He  was,  therefore,  supposed  to  be  dear  to  Apollo,  who  had  slain  the 
Python.  After  his  death  he  was  placed  in  the  heavens,  with  the  dragon  he 
had  destroyed,  in  the  constellation  Ophiucusy  or  Serpentarius. 

Hyacinthus  was  the  son  of  Amyclas,  founder  of  the  city  of  Amyclse,  neaT 
Sparta.  He  was  beloved  by  Apollo  and  Zephyrus,  and  was  killed  in  a  fit  of 
jealousy  by  the  latter,  who,  with  a  puff  of  wind,  caused  a  quoit  thrown  by 
Apollo  to  fall  upon  his  head.  He  was  changed  into  a  flower  which  bears 
his  name.  Vide  Pausan.  de  Laconic.  1.  iii.  et  Ovid.  Metam.  1.  x.fab.  5. 

Admetus  was  the  son  of  Pheres,  king  of  Thessaly.  It  is  sail  that  Apoll« 
kept  his  sheep. 


NUMA. 


137 


He  comes,  again  the  much-love  d  hero  comes. 

It  is  also  fabled,  that  Pan  was  in  love  with  Pindar, * * * §  on  ac¬ 
count  of  his  poetry;  and  that  Archilochus  and  Hesiod, t  aftet 
their  death,  were  honoured  by  the  heavenly  powers  for  the 
same  reason.  Sophocles,  too  (as  the  story  goes)  was  blessed  in 
his  lifetime  with  the  conversation  of  the  god  iEsculapius,  of 
which  many  proofs  still  remain;  and  another  deity  procured 
him  burial.  J  Now,  if  we  admit  that  these  were  so  highly  fa 
roured,  shall  we  deny  that  Zaleucus?§  Minos,  Zoroaster,  Nu 
ma,  and  Lycurgus,  kings  and  lawgivers,  were  happy  in  the 
same  respect?  Nay,  rather,  we  shall  think,  that  the  gods 
might  seriously  converse  with  such  excellent  persons  as  these, 
to  instruct  and  encourage  them  in  their  great  attempts;  where¬ 
as,  if  they  indulged  poets  and  musicians  in  the  same  grace,  it 
must  be  by  way  of  diversion.  To  such  as  are  of  another 
opinion,  I  shall  say,  however,  with  Bacchylides,  The  way  is 
broad .  For  it  is  no  unplausible  account  of  the  matter  which 
others  give,  when  they  tell  us  that  Lycurgus,  Numa,  and 
other  great  men,  finding  their  people  difficult  to  manage,  and 
alterations  to  be  made  in  their  several  governments,  pretend¬ 
ed  commissions  from  heaven,  which  were  salutary,  at  least  to 
those  for  whom  they  were  invented. 

Numa  was  now  in  his  fortieth  year,  when  ambassadors  came 
from  Rome  to  make  him  an  offer  of  the  kingdom.  The  speak¬ 
ers  were  Proculus  and  Velesus,  whom  the  people  before  had 
cast  their  eyes  upon  for  the  royal  dignity,  the  Romans  being 
attached  to  Proculus  and  the  Sabines  to  Velesus.  As  they 
imagined  that  Numa  would  gladly  embrace  his  good  fortune, 
they  made  but  a  short  speech.  They  found  it,  however,  no 
easy  matter  to  persuade  him,  but  were  obliged  to  make  use  of 
much  entreaty  to  draw  him  from  that  peaceful  retreat  he  was 
so  fond  of,  to  the  government  of  a  city,  born,  as  it  were,  and 

*  Pindar  had  a  particular  devotion  for  the  god  Pan,  and  therefoie  took  up 
his  abode  near  the  temple  of  Rhea  and  Pan.  He  composed  the  hymns 
which  the  Theban  virgins  sung  on  the  festival  of  that  deity;  and,  it  is  said,  he 
had  the  happiness  to  hear  Pan  himself  singing  one  of  his  odes. 

■f  Archilochus  was  slain  by  a  soldier  of  Naxos,  who  was  obliged  by  the 
priestess  of  Apollo  to  make  expiation  for  having  killed  a  man  consecrated  to 
the  Muses. — As  for  Hesiod,  the  Orchomenians,  a  people  of  Boeotia,  being  ter¬ 
ribly  afflicted  by  a  plague,  were  ordered  by  the  oracle  to  remove  the  bohes 
cf  that  poet,  from  Naupactus  in  iEtolia,  into  their  country. 

t  Sophocles  died  at  Athens,  while  Lysander  was  carrying  on  the  siege  of 
the  city;  and  Bacchus  is  said  to  have  appeared  to  the  Spartan  general  in  a 
dream,  and  ordered  him  to  permit  the  new  Athenian  Syren  to  be  buried  at 
Decelea. 

§  Zaleucus  gave  laws  to  the  Locrians  in  Magna  Graecia;  Zoroaster,  one  of 
the  magi ,  and  king  of  the  Bactrians,  to  his  own  subjects;  and  Minos  to  the 
people  of  Crete. 

Vol.  I. - IT 


138 


NUMA. 


brought  up  in  war  Ir.  the  presence,  therefore,  of  his  father, 
and  one  of  his  kinsmen,  named  Marcius,  he  gave  them  this 
answer: — “  Every  change  of  human  life  has  its  dangers;  but 
when  a  man  has  a  sufficiency  for  every  thing,  and  there  is  no¬ 
thing  in  his  present  situation  to  be  complained  of,  what  hut 
madness  can  lead  him  from  his  usual  track  of  life,  which,  it  it 
has  no  other  advantage,  has  that  of  certainty,  to  experience 
another  as  yet  doubtful  and  unknown?  But  the  dangers  that 
attend  this  government  are  beyond  an  uncertainty,  if  we  may 
form  a  judgment  from  the  fortunes  of  Romulus,  who  laboured 
under  the  suspicion  of  taking  off  Tatius,  his  colleague,  and  was 
supposed  to  have  lost  his  own  life  with  equal  injustice.  Yet 
Romulus  is  celebrated  as  a  person  of  divine  origin,  as  super- 
naturally  nourished  when  an  infant,  and  most  wonderfully  pre¬ 
served.  For  my  part,  I  am  only  of  mortal  race,  and  you  are 
sensible  my  nursing  and  education  boast  of  nothing  extraordi 
nary.  As  for  my  character,  if  it  has  any  distinction,  it  has  been 
gained  in  a  way  not  likely  to  qualify  me  for  a  king,  in  scenes  of 
repose  and  employments  by  no  means  arduous.  My  genius  is 
inclined  to  peace,  my  love  has  long  been  fixed  upon  it,  and  I 
have  studiously  avoided  the  confusion  of  war;  I  have  also 
drawn  others,  so  far  as  my  influence  extended,  to  the  worship 
of  the  gods,  to  mutual  offices  of  friendship,  and  to  spend  the  rest 
of  their  time  in  tilling  the  ground,  and  feeding  cattle.  The 
Romans  may  have  unavoidable  wars  left  upon  their  hands  by 
their  late  king,  for  the  maintaining  of  which  you  have  need  o*f 
another  more  active  and  more  enterprising.  Besides,  the 
people  are  of  a  warlike  disposition,  spirited  with  success,  and 
plainly  enough  discover  their  inclination  to  extend  their  con¬ 
quests.  Of  course,  therefore,  a  person  who  has  set  his  heart 
upon  the  promoting  of  religion  and  justice,  and  drawing  men 
off  from  the  love  of  violence  and  war,  would  soon  become 
ridiculous  and  contemptible  to  a  city  that  has  more  occasion 
for  a  general  than  a  king.” 

Numa  in  this  manner  declining  the  crown,  the  Romans,  on 
the  other  hand  exerted  all  their  endeavours  to  obviate  his  ob¬ 
jections,  and  begged  of  him  not  to  throw  them  into  confusion 
and  civil  war  again,  as  there  was  no  other  whom  both  parties 
would  unanimously  elect.  When  the  ambassadors  had  retired, 
his  father  and  his  friend  Marcius  privately  urged  him,  by  all 
the  arguments  in  their  power,  to  receive  this  great  and  valua¬ 
ble  gift  of  heaven; — “  If  contented,”  said  they,  “  with  a  com 
petence,  you  desire  not  riches,  nor  aspire  after  the  honour  of 
sovereignty,  having  a  higher  and  better  distinction  in  virtue; 
vet  consider  that  a  king  is  the  minister  of  God,  who  now  awa 
kens,  and  puts  in  action  your  native  wisdom  and  justice.  Be¬ 
eline  not,  therefore,  an  authority  which  to  a  wise  man  is  a 


NUMA 


139 


field  foi  great  and  good  actions;  whei  i  dignity  may  be  added 
to  religion,  and  men  may  be  brought  over  to  piety,  in  the 
easiest  and  readiest  way,  by  the  influence  of  the  prince.  Ta- 
tius,  though  a  stranger,  was  beloved  by  his  people;  and  they 
pay  divine  honours  to  the  memory  of  ‘Romulus.  Besides, 
who  knows,  as  they  are  victorious,  but  they  may  be  satiated 
with  war,  and  having  no  farther  wish  for  triumphs  and  spoils, 
may  be  desirous  of  a  mild  and  just  governor  for  the  establish¬ 
ing  of  good  laws,  and  the  settling  of  peace?  But  should  they 
be  ever  so  ardently  inclined  to  war,  yet  is  it  not  better  to  turn 
their  violence  another  way,  and  to  be  the  centre  of  union  and 
friendship  between  the  country  of  the  Sabines  and  so  great 
and  flourishing  a  state  as  that  of  Rome?”  These  inducements, 
we  are  told,  were  strengthened  by  auspicious  omens,  and  by 
the  zeal  and  ardour  of  his  fellow-citizens,  who,  as  soon  as  they 
had  learned  the  subject  of  the  embassy,  went  in  a  body  to  en¬ 
treat  him  to  take  the  government  upon  him,  as  the  only  means 
to  appease  all  dissensions,  and  effectually  incorporate  the  two 
nations  into  one. 

When  he  had  determined  to  go,  he  offered  sacrifice  to  the 
gods,  and  then  set  forward  to  Rome.  Struck  with  love  and 
admiration  of  the  man,  the  senate  and  people  met  him  on  the 
way;  the  women  welcomed  him  with  blessings  and  shouts  of 
joy;  the  temples  were  crowded  with  sacrifices;  and  so  univer¬ 
sal  was  the  satisfaction,  that  the  city  might  seem  to  have  re¬ 
ceived  a  kingdom,  instead  of  a  king.  When  they  were  come 
into  the  forum,  Spurius  Vettius,  whose  turn  it  then  was  to  be 
Interrex ,  put  it  to  the  vote  whether  Numa  should  be  king,  and 
all  the  citizens  agreed  to  it  with  one  voice.  The  robes  and 
other  distinctions  of  royalty  then  were  offered  him,  but  he 
commanded  them  to  stop,  as  his  authority  yet  wanted  the  sanc¬ 
tion  of  heaven.  Taking,  therefore,  with  him  the  priests  and 
augurs,  he  went  up  to  the  Capitol,  which  the  Romans  at  that 
time  called  the  Tarpeian  rock.  There  the  chief  of  the  augurs 
covered  the  head  of  Numa,*  and  turned  his  face  towards  the 
south;  then  standing  behind  him,  and  laying  his  right  hand 
upon  his  head,  he  offered  up  his  devotions,  and  looked  around 
him,  in  hopes  of  seeing  birds,  or  some  other  signal  from  the 

*  So  it  is  in  the  text  of  Plutarch,  as  it  now  stands;  but  it  appears  from 
Livy,  that  the  augur  covered  his  own  head,  not  that  of  Numa,  Augur  ad 
laevam  ejus9  capite  velato ,  sedem  ccpit ,  &c.  And,  indeed,  the  augur  always 
covered  his  head  in  a  gown  peculiar  to  his  office,  called  Ldenae,  when  he 
made  his  observations.  Mezeray  reconciles  these  writers,  and  removes  the 
seeming  mistake  of  Plutarch,  by  a  reading  which  Francis  Robortel  had 
found  in  an  ancient  manuscript,  <rcv  /wsv  «/c  /uio-a/ufipiciv  ryxiKdLAv/ufxwoi  ceuro^ 

k'ju  «£ow3w.  If  this  be  considered  only  as  an  emendation,  it  i9  a  very 

good  one. 


140 


NUMA. 


gods.  An  incredible  silence  reigned  among  the  people,  anx 
ious  for  the  event,  and  lost  in  suspense,  till  the  auspicious  birds 
appeared,  and  passed  on  the  right  hand.  Then  Numa  took 
the  royal  robe,  and  went  down  from  the  mount  to  the  people, 
who  received  him  with  loud  acclamations,  as  the  most  pious 
of  men,  and  most  beloved  of  the  gods. 

His  first  act  of  government  was  to  discharge  the  body  oi 
three  hundred  men,  called  Celeres,*  whom  Romulus  always 
kept  about  his  person  as  guards;  for  he  neither  chose  to  dis¬ 
trust  those  who  put  confidence  in  him,  nor  to  reign  over  a 
people  that  could  distrust  him.  In  the  next  place,  to  the 
priests  of  Jupiter  and  Mars  he  added  one  for  Romulus,  whom 
he  styled  Flamen  Quirinalis.  Flamlnes  was  a  common  name  for 
priests  before  that  time,  and  it  is  said  to  have  been  corrupted 
from  Pilamines ,  a  term  derived  from  Pilot,  which  in  Greek  sig¬ 
nifies  capsf  (for  they  wore,  it  seems,  a  kind  of  caps  or  hoods), 
and  the  Latin  language  had  many  more  Greek  words  mixed 
with  it  then  than  it  has  at  this  time.  Thus  royal  mantles 
were  by  the  Romans  called  Lzenx,  which  Juba  assures  us  was 
from  the  Greek  Chlsense;  and  the  name  of  Camillusi ,  given  to 
the  youth  who  served  in  the  temple  of  Jupiter,  and  who  was 
to  have  both  his  parents  alive,  was  the  same  which  some  of 
the  Greeks  give  to  Mercury,  on  account  of  his  being  an  at 
tendant  of  that  god. 

Numa  having  settled  these  matters  with  a  view  to  establish 
himself  in  the  people’s  good  graces,  immediately  after  at¬ 
tempted  to  soften  them  as  iron  is  softened  by  fire,  and  to 
bring  them  from  a  violent  and  warlike  disposition  to  a  juster 
and  more  gentle  temper.  For,  if  any  city  ever  was  am  a 
state  of  inflammation,”  as  Plato  expresses  it,  Rome  certainly 
was,  being  composed  at  first  of  the  most  hardy  and  resolute 
men,  whom  boldness  and  despair  had  driven  thither  from  all 
quarters,  nourished  and  grown  up  to  power  by  a  series  of  wars, 
and  strengthened  even  by  blows  and  conflicts,  as  piles  fixed 
in  the  ground  become  firmer  under  the  strokes  of  the  rammer. 
Persuaded  that  no  ordinary  means  were  sufficient  to  form  and 

*  Numa  did  not  make  use  of  them  as  guards,  but  as  inferior  ministers, 
who  were  to  take  care  of  the  sacrifices,  under  the  direction  of  the  tribunes, 
who  had  commanded  them  in  their  military  capacity. 

Others  think  they  took  their  names  from  the  flame-coloured  tufts  they 
had  on  their  caps.  They  were  denominated  from  the  particular  god  to 
whom  their  ministry  was  confined,  as  Flamen  Dialis ,  the  priest  of  Jupiter ; 
Flamen  Mariialis ,  the  priest  of  Mars. 

t  Camillas  \5  derived  from  the  Boeotic  ndtAuixos,  which  properly  signifies  a 
servitor.  \n  \very  temple  there  was  a  youth  of  quality,  whose  business  it 
was  to  miukfcei’  to  the  priest.  It  was  necessary  that  the  father  and  mothei 
of  the  youth  should  be  both  alive;  for  which  reason  Plutarch  makes  use  of 
the  word  ctw^cixtt,  which  the  Latins  call  patrimum  et  matrimum. 


NUMA. 


141 


reduce  so  high-spirited  and  untractable  a  people  to  mildness 
and  peace,  he  called  in  the  assistance  of  religion.  By  sacrifi¬ 
ces,  religious  dances,  and  processions,  which  he  appointed,  and 
wherein  himself  officiated,  he  contrived  to  mix  the  charms  ot 
festivity  and  social  pleasure  with  the  solemnity  of  the  ceremo¬ 
nies.  Thus  he  soothed  their  minds,  and  calmed  their  fierce¬ 
ness  and  martial  fire.  Sometimes,  also,  by  acquainting  them 
with  prodigies  from  heaven,  by  reports  of  dreadful  appari¬ 
tions  and  menacing  voices,  he  inspired  them  with  terror,  and 
humbled  them  with  superstition.  This  was  the  principal  cause 
of  the  report  that  he  drew  his  wisdom  from  the  sources  oi 
Pythagoras;  for  a  great  part  of  the  philosophy  of  the  latter,  as 
well  as  the  government  of  the  former,  consisted  in  religious 
attentions  and  the  worship  of  the  gods.  It  is  likewise  said, 
that  his  solemn  appearance  and  air  of  sanctity  was  copied  from 
Pythagoras.  That  philosopher  had  so  far  tamed  an  eagle, 
that,  by  pronouncing  certain  words,  he  could  stop  it  in  its 
flight,  or  bring  it  down;  and  passing  through  the  multitudes 
assembled  at  the  Olympic  games,  he  showed  them  his  golden 
thigh;  besides  other  arts  and  actions,  by  which  he  pretended 
to  something  supernatural.  This  led  Timon  the  Phliasian  to 
write, — 


To  catch  applause,  Pythagoras  affects 
A  solemn  air  and  grandeur  of  expression. 


But  Numa  feigned  that  some  goddess  or  mountain  nymp** 
favoured  him  with  her  private  regards  (as  we  have  already  ob¬ 
served),  and  that  he  had  moreover  frequent  conversation* 
with  the  Muses.  To  the  latter  he  ascribed  most  of  his  revela¬ 
tions;  and  there  was  one  in  particular  that  he  called  Taciia ,  as 
much  as  to  say,  the  Muse  of  silence*  whom  he  taught  the  Ro¬ 
mans  to  distinguish  with  their  veneration.  By  this,  too,  he 
seemed  to  show  his  knowledge  and  approbation  of  the  Pytha¬ 
gorean  precept  of  silence. 

His  regulations  concerning  images  seem  likewise  to  have 
some  relation  to  the  doctrine  of  Pythagoras,  who  was  of  opi 
nion,  that  the  First  Cause  was  not  an  object  of  sense,  nor  lia¬ 
ble  to  passion,  but  invisible,  incorruptible,  and  discernible 
only  by  the  mind.  Thus  Numa  forbade  the  Romans  to  re¬ 
present  the  Deity  in  the  form  either  of  man  or  beast.  Nor 

*  The  common  reading  of  the  text  is,  otcv  <ria7nik»v  »  vtuv.  The  word  nut 
signifies  young;  but  it  should  undoubtedly  be  read  muv,  silent,  mute ,  not 
only  from  the  analogy  of  the  sense,  and  the  conjecture  of  Stephens,  but  or 
the  authority  of  a  manuscript.  In  the  city  of  Erythrse  there  was  a  temple 
of  Minerva,  where  the  priestess  was  called  Hesychia ,  that  is,  the  composed , 
the  silent. 


142 


NUMA. 


was  there  among  them  formerly  any  image  or  statue  of  the 
Divine  Being.  During  the  first  hundred  and  seventy  years 
they  built  temples,  indeed,  and  other  sacred  domes,  but  placed 
in  them  no  figure  of  any  kind,  persuaded  that  it  is  impious  to 
represent  things  divine  by  what  is  perishable,  and  that  we 
can  have  no  conception  of  God  but  by  the  understanding. 
His  sacrifices,  too,  resembled  the  Pythagorean  worship;  for 
they  were  without  any  effusion  of  blood,  consisting  chiefly  of 
flour,  libations  of  wine,  and  other  very  simple  and  unexpen- 
sive  things. 

To  these  arguments  other  circumstances  are  added,  to  prove 
that  these  two  great  men  were  acquainted  with  each  other; 
one  of  which  is,  that  Pythagoras  was  enrolled  a  citizen  of 
Rome.  This  account  we  have  in  an  address  to  Antenor  from 
Epicharmus,  a  writer  of  comedy,  and  a  very  ancient  author, 
who  was  himself  of  the  school  of  Pythagoras.* * * §  Another  is, 
that  Numa  having  four  sons,t  called  one  of  them  Mamercus, 
after  the  name  of  a  son  of  Pythagoras.  From  him,  too,  they 
tell  us,  the  JEmilian  family  is  descended,  which  is  one  of  the 
noblest  in  Rome;  the  king  having  given  him  the  surname  of 
JEmilius,  on  account  of  his  graceful  and  engaging  manner  of 
speaking.  And  I  have  myself  been  informed  by  several  per¬ 
sons  in  Rome,  that  the  Romans  being  commanded  by  the  ora¬ 
cle  to  erect  two  statues,  %  one  to  the  wisest,  and  the  other  to 
the  bravest  of  the  Grecians,  setup  in  brass  the  figures  of  Py¬ 
thagoras  and  Alcibiades.  But  as  these  matters  are  very  dubi¬ 
ous,  to  support  or  refute  them  farther  would  look  like  the 
juvenile  affectation  of  dispute. 

To  Numa  is  attributed  the  institution  of  that  high  order  of 
priests,  called  Pontlficts §,  over  which  he  is  said  to  have  pre 

*  As  YluSdLyzpiw  ficnpifins  fAmyjnnMt  does  not  necessarily  signify  scholar  to 
Pythagoras ,  we  have  rendered  it  of  the  school  of  Pythagoras ,  or  a  Pythago 
rean,  to  avoid  involving  Plutarch  in  a  glaring  anachronism.  According  to 
the  Marmora  Oxon.  Epicharmus  flourished  in  the  year  before  Christ  472; 
and  it  is  certain  it  must  have  been  about  that  time,  because  he  was  at  the 
court  of  Hiero. 

-j*  Some  writers,  to  countenance  the  vanity  of  certain  noble  families  in 
Home,  in  deducing  their  genealogy  from  Numa,  have  given  that  prince 
four  sons.  But  the  common  opinion  is  that  he  had  only  one  daughter,  nam« 
ed  Pompilia.  The  iEmilii  were  one  of  the  most  considerable  families  in 
Rome,  and  branched  into  the  Lepidi,  the  Pauli,  and  the  Papi.  The  word 
JLimuluSj  or  JEmylus ,  in  Greek,  signifies  gentle ,  graceful. 

t  Pliny  tells  us  (1.  xxxiv.  c.  5,)  it  was  in  the  time  of  their  war  with  the 
Samnites  that  the  Romans  were  ordered  to  set  up  these  statues;  that  they 
were  accordingly  placed  in  the  comuium ,  and  that  they  remained  there  till 
the  dictatorship  of  Sylla.  The  oracle,  by  this  direction,  probably  intimated, 
that  the  Romans,  if  they  desired  to  be  victorious,  should  imitate  the  wisdom 
and  valour  of  the  Greeks. 

§  Numa  created  four,  who  were  all  patricians.  But,  in  the  year  of  Rome, 


NUMA. 


143 


sided  himself.  Some  say  they  were  called  Pontifices ,  as  em¬ 
ployed  in  the  service  of  those  powerful  gods  that  govern  th  e 
world;  for  pot ens  in  the  Roman  language  signifies- powerful. 
Others,  from  their  being  ordered  by  the  lawgiver  to  perform 
such  secret  offices  as  were  in  their  power,  and  standing  excused 
when  there  was  some  great  impediment.  But  most  writers 
assign  a  ridiculous  reason  for  the  term,  as  if  they  were  called 
Pontifices  from  their  offering  sacrifices  upon  the  bridge ,  which 
the  Latins  call  pontem ,  such  kind  of  ceremonies  it  seems  being 
looked  upon  as  the  most  sacred,  and  of  greatest  antiquity. 
These  priests,  too,  are  said  to  have  been  commissioned  to 
keep  the  bridges  in  repair,  as  one  of  the  most  indispensable 
parts  of  their  holy  office.  For  the  Romans  considered  it  as 
an  execrable  impiety  to  demolish  the  wooden  bridge;  which, 
we  are  told,  was  built  without  iron,  and  put  together  with 
pins  of  wood  only,  by  the  direction  of  some  oracle.  The 
stone  bridge  was  built  many  ages  after,  when  iEmilius  was 
quaestor.  Some,  however,  inform  us,  that  the  wooden  bridge 
was  not  constructed  in  the  time  of  Numa,  having  the  last  hand 
put  to  it  by  Ancus  Marcius,  who  was  grandson  to  Numa  by 
nis  daughter. 

The  pontifex  maximus ,  chief  of  these  priests,  is  interpreter 
;>f  all  sacred  rites,  or  rather  a  superintendent  of  religion,  hav¬ 
ing  the  care  not  only  of  public  sacrifices,  but  even  of  private 
/ites  and  offerings,  forbidding  the  people  to  depart  from  the 
stated  ceremonies,  and  teaching  them  how  to  honour  and  pro¬ 
pitiate  the  gods.  He  had  also  the  inspection  of  the  holy  vir¬ 
gins  called  Vestals .  For  to  Numa  is  inscribed  the  sacred  es¬ 
tablishment  of  the  vestal  virgins,  and  the  whole  service  with 
respect  to  the >  perpetual  fire,  which  they  watch  continually. 
This  office  seems  appropriated  to  them,  either  because  fire, 
which  is  of  a  pure  and  incorruptible  nature,  should  be  looked 
after  by  persons  untouched  and  undefiled,  or  else  because  vir¬ 
ginity,  like  fire,  is  barren  and  unfruitful.  Agreeably  to  this 
last  reason,  at  the  places  in  Greece,  where  the  sacred  fire  is 
preserved  unextinguished,  as  at  Delphi  and  Athens,  not  vir 
gins,  but  widows  past  child-bearing,  have  the  charge  of  it. 
If  it  happens  by  any  accident  to  be  put  out,  as  the  sacred  lamp 
is  said  to  have  been  at  Athens,  under  the  tyranny  of  Aristion  ;* 

453  or  454,  four  plebeians  were  added  to  the  number.  The  king*  himself  is 
here  asserted  to  have  been  the  chief  of  them;  or  pontifex  maximus,  though 
Livy  attributes  that  honour  to  another  person  of  the  same  name,  viz.  Numr 
Marcius,  the  son  of  Marcius,  one  of  the  senators.  It  seems,  however,  no; 
improbable,  that  Numa,  who  was  of  so  religious  a  turn,  reserved  the  chiei 
dignity  in  the  priesthood  to  himself,  as  kings  had  done  in  the  first  ages  of 
the  world,  and  as  the  emperors  of  Rome  did  afterwards. 

*  This  Aristion  held  out  a  long  time  against  Sylla,  who  besieged  and  tool; 


144 


NUMA, 


at  Delphi  when  the  temple  was  burnt  by  the  Medes;  and  a 
Rome,  in  the  Mithridatie  war,  as  also  in  the  civil  war, *  when 
not  only  the  fire  w~as  extinguished,  but  the  altar  overturned 
it  is  not  to  be  lighted  again  from  another  fire,  but  new  fire  is  ta 
be  gained  by  drawing  a  pure  and  unpolluted  flame  from  the 
sunbeams.  They  kindle  it  generally  with  concave  vessels  oj 
brass,  formed  by  the  conic  section  of  a  rectangled  triangle, 
whose  lines  from  the  circumference  meet  in  one  central  point. 
This  being  placed  against  the  sun,  causes  its  rays  to  converge 
in  the  centre,  which  by  reflection,  acquiring  the  force  and  ac 
tivity  of  fire,  rarefy  the  air,  and  immediately  kindle  such  light 
and  dry  matter  as  they  think  fit  to  apply,  t  Some  are  of  opin¬ 
ion,  that  the  sacred  virgins  have  the  care  of  nothing  but  the 
perpetual  fire.  But  others  say  they  have  some  private  rites 
besides,  kept  from  the  sight  of  all  but  their  own  body,  concern¬ 
ing  which,  I  have  delivered,  in  the  life  of  Camillus,  as  much 
as  it  was  proper  to  inquire  into  or  declare. 

It  is  reported  that  at  first  only  two  virgins  were  consecrated 
by  Numa,  whose  names  were  Geganiaand  Verania;  afterwards 
two  others,  Canuleia  and  Tarpeia;  to  whom  Servius  added  two 
more;  and  that  number  has  continued  to  this  time.  The  vestals 
were  obliged  by  the  king  to  preserve  their  virginity  for  thirty 
years.  The  first  ten  years  they  spent  in  learning  their  office; 
the  next  ten  in  putting  in  practice  what  they  had  learned ;  and 
the  third  period  in  the  instructing  of  others.  At  the  conclu¬ 
sion  of  this  time,  such  as  chose  it  had  liberty  to  marry,  and 
quitting  their  sacred  employment,  to  take  up  some  other. 
However,  we  have  account  of  but  very  few  that  accepted  this 
indulgence,  and  those  did  not  prosper.  They  generally  be¬ 
came  a  prey  to  repentance  and  regret,  from  whence  the  rest, 
inspired  with  a  religious  feai:,  were  willing  to  end  their  lives 
under  the  same  institution. 

The  king  honoured  them  with  great  privileges,  such  as  pow¬ 
er  to  make  a  will  during  their  father’s  life,  and  to  transact  their 
other  affairs  without  a  guardian,  like  the  mothers  of  three 

Athens  in  the  time  of  the  Mithridatie  war.  Aristion  himself  committed  in¬ 
numerable  outrages  in  the  city,  and  was  at  last  the  cause  of  its  being  sacked 
and  plundered.  As  for  the  sacred  fire,  it  was  kept  in  the  temple  of  Mi¬ 
nerva. 

*  Livy  tells  us,  (1.  86.)  that  towards  the  conclusion  of  the  civil  war  be¬ 
tween  Sylla  and  Marius,  Mutius  Scsevola,  the  pontiff,  was  killed  at  the  en¬ 
trance  of  the  temple  of  Vesta;  but  we  do  not  find  that  the  sacred  fire  was 
extinguished.  And  even  when  that  temple  was  burnt,  towards  the  end  of 
the  first  Punic  war,  L.  Cecilius  Metellus,  then  pontiff,  rushed  through  the 
flames,  and  brought  off*  the  Palladium ,  and  other  sacred  tilings,  though  with 
the  loss  of  his  sight. 

f  Burning  glasses  are  invented  by  Archimedes,  who  flourished  500  year* 
after  Numa. 


NUMA. 


145 


children  now.  When  they  went  abroad,  they  had  the  fasces 
carried  before  them;* * * §  and  if,  by  accident,  they  met  a  person 
led  to  execution,  his  life  was  granted  him.  But  the  vestal  was 
to  make  oatht  that  it  was  by  chance  she  met  him,  and  not  by 
design.  It  was  death  to  go  under  the  chair  in  which  they  were 
carried. 

For  smaller  offences  these  virgins  were  punished  with 
stripes;  and  sometimes  the  pontifex  maximus  gave  them  the  dis 
cipline  naked,  in  some  dark  place,  and  under  the  cover  of  a 
veil;  bat  she  that  broke  her  vow  of  chastity  was  buried  alive 
by  the  Colline  gate.  There,  within  the  walls,  is  raised  a  little 
mount  of  earth,  called  in  Latin  Agger:  under  which  is  prepar¬ 
ed  a  small  cell,  with  steps  to  descend  to  it.  In  this  are  plac¬ 
ed  a  bed,  a  lighted  lamp,  and  some  slight  provisions,  such  as 
bread,  water,  milk,  and  oil,  as  they  thought  it  impious  to  take 
off  a  person  consecrated  with  the  most  awful  ceremonies,  by 
such  a  death  as  that  of  famine.  J  The  criminal  is  carried  to 
punishment,  through  the  Forum ,  in  a  litter  well  covered  with¬ 
out,  and  bound  up  in  such  a  manner  that  her  cries  can  not  be 
heard.  The  people  silently  make  way  for  the  litter,  and  follow 
it  with  marks  of  extreme  sorrow  and  dejection.  There  is  no 
spectacle  more  dreadful  than  this,  nor  any  day  which  the  city 
passes  in  a  more  melancholy  manner.  When  the  litter  comes 
to  the  place  appointed,  the  officers  loose  the  cords;  the  high- 
priest,  with  hands  lifted  up  towards  heaven,  offers  up  some 
private  prayers  just  before  the  fatal  minute,  then  takes  out  the 
prisoner,  who  is  covered  with  a  veil,  and  places  her  upon  the 
steps  which  lead  down  to  the  cell:  after  this,  he  retires  with 
the  rest  of  the  priests,  and  when  she  is  gone  down,  the  steps 
are  taken  away,  and  the  cell  is  covered  with  earth;  so  that  the 
place  is  made  level  with  the  rest  of  the  mount.  Thus  were  the 
vestals  punished  that  preserved  not  their  chastity. 

It  is  also  said  that  Numa  built  the  temple  of  Vesta  where  the 
perpetual  fire  was  to  be  kept,§  in  an  orbicular  form,  not  intend¬ 
ing  to  represent  the  figure  of  the  earth,  as  if  that  was  meant  by 
Vesta ,  but  file  frame  of  the  universe,  in  the  centre  of  which 

*  This  honour  was  not  conferred  upon  them  by  Numa,  but  by  the  trium¬ 
virate  in  the  year  of  Rome  712. 

f  Neither  a  vestal  nor  a  priest  of  Jupiter  was  obliged  to  take  an  oath. 
They  were  believed  without  that  solemnity. 

t  There  seems  to  be  something  improbable  and  inconsistent  in  this.  Of 
what  use  could  provisions  be  to  the  vestal,  who,  when  the  grave  was  closed 
upon  her,  must  expire  through  want  of  air?  Or,  if  she  could  make  use  of 
those  provisions,  was  she  not  at  last  to  die  by  famine  ?  Perhaps  what  Plu¬ 
tarch  here  calls  provisions,  were  materials  for  some  sacrifice. 

§  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  (1.  ii.)  is  of  opinion,  and  probably  he  is  right, 
that  Numa  did  build  the  temple  of  Vesta  in  a  round  fonr,  to  represent  thj 
figure  of  the  earth;  for  by  Vesta  they  meant  the  earth. 

Vol.  I. - X  14* 


L46 


NUMA. 


the  Pythagoreans  place  the  element  of  fire,*  and  give  it  the 
name  of  Vesta  and  Unity.  The  earth  they  suppose  not  to  be 
without  motion,  nor  situated  in  the  centre  of  the  world,  but  to 
make  its  revolution  round  the  sphere  of  fire,  being  neither  one 
of  the  most  valuable  nor  principal  parts  of  the  great  machine 
Plato,  too,  in  his  old  age,  is  reported  to  have  been  of  the  same 
opinion,  assigning  the  earth  a  different  situation  from  the  cen¬ 
tre,  and  leaving  that,  as  the  place  of  honour,  to  a  nobler  ele¬ 
ment. 

The  Ponti/ices  were,  moreover,  to  prescribe  the  form  of  fu¬ 
neral  rites  to  such  as  consulted  them.  Numa  himself  taught 
them  to  look  upon  the  last  offices  to  the  dead  as  no  pollution. 
He  instructed  them  to  pay  all  due  honour  to  the  infernal  gods, 
as  receiving  the  most  excellent  part  of  us,  and  more  particu¬ 
larly  to  venerate  the  goddess  Libitina ,  as  he  called  her,  who 
presides  over  funeral  solemnities;  whether  he  meant  by  her 
Proserpine ,  or  rather  Venus, t  as  some  of  the  most  learned  Ro¬ 
mans  suppose;  not  improperly  ascribing  to  the  same  divine 
power  the  care  of  our  birth  and  of  our  death. 

He  himself  likewise  fixed  the  time  of  mourning,  according 
to  the  different  ages  of  the  deceased.  He  allowed  none  for  a 
child  that  died  under  three  years  of  age;  and  for  one  older  the 
mourning  was  only  to  last  as  many  months  as  he  lived  years, 
provided  those  were  not  more  than  ten.  The  longest  mourn¬ 
ing  was  not  to  continue  above  ten  months,  after  which  space 
widows  were  permitted  to  marry  again;  but  she  that  took  ano¬ 
ther  husband  before  that  term  was  out,  was  obliged,  by  his 
decree,  to  sacrifice  a  cow  with  calf.  J 

*  That  this  was  the  opinion  of  Philolaiis  and  other  Pythagoreans  is  well 
known;  but  Diogenes  Laertius  tells  us,  that  Pythagoras  himself  held  the 
earth  to  be  the  centre. 

f  This  Venus  Libitina  was  the  same  with  Proserpine.  She  was  called  at 
Delphi  Venus  Epitumbia .  Pluto  was  the  Jupiter  of  the  shades  below;  and 
there  they  had  their  Mercury  too. 

$  Such  an  unnatural  sacrifice  was  intended  to  deter  the  widows  from  mar¬ 
rying  again  before  the  expiration  of  their  mourning.  Romulus’s  year  con¬ 
sisting  but  of  ten  months,  when  Numa  afterwards  added  two  months  more, 
he  did  not  alter  the  time  he  had  before  settled  for  mourning;  and  therefore; 
though,  after  that  time,  we  often  meet  with  Ludus  annus ,  or  a  year’s 
mourning,  we  must  take  it  only  for  the  old  year  of  Romulus. 

The  ordinary  colour  to  express  their  grief,  used  alike  by  both  sexes,  was 
black  without  trimmings;  but  after  the  establishment  of  the  empire,  when 
abundance  of  colours  came  in  fashion,  the  old  primitive  white  grew  so  much 
into  contempt,. that  it  became  peculiar  to  the  women  for  their  mourning. — 
Vide  Plut.  Quaest.  Horn. 

There  were  several  accidents  which  often  occasioned  the  concluding  of  a 
public  mourning,  or  suspension  of  a  private  one,  before  the  fixed  time;  suen 
as  the  dedication  of  a  temple,  the  solemnity  of  public  games  or  festivals,  the 
solemn  lustration  performed  by  the  censor,  and  the  discharging  of  a  vovv 


NUMA. 


147 


Numa  instituted  several  other  sacred  orders;  two  of  which 
I  shall  mention,  the  Salii *  and  Feciales, \  which  afford  particu¬ 
lar  proofs  of  his  piety.  The  Feciales ,  who  were  like  the  Ireno- 
phy lakes,  or  guardians  of  the  peace,  among  the  Greeks,  had,  I 
believe,  a  name  expressive  of  their  office;  for  they  were  to  act 
and  mediate  between  the  two  parties,  to  decide  their  differ¬ 
ences  by  reason,  and  not  suffer  them  to  go  to  war  till  all  hopes 
of  justice  were  lost.  The  Greeks  call  such  a  peace  Irene ,  as  puts 
an  end  to  strife,  not  by  mutual  violence,  but  in  a  rational  way. 
In  like  manner,  the  feciales  or,  heralds,  were  often  despatched 
to  such  nations  as  had  injured  the  Romans,  to  persuade  them 
to  entertain  more  equitable  sentiments;  if  they  rejected  their 
application,  they  called  the  gods  to  witness,  with  imprecations 
against  themselves  and  their  country,  if  their  cause  was  not 
just;  and  so  they  declared  war.  But  if  the  Feciales  refused 
their  sanction,  it  was  not  lawful  for  any  Roman  soldier,  nor 
even  for  the  king  himself,  to  begin  hostilities.  War  was  to 
commence  with  their  approbation,  as  the  proper  judges  whe¬ 
ther  it  was  just,  and  then  the  supreme  magistrate  was  to  de¬ 
liberate  concerning  the  proper  means  of  carrying  it  on.  The 
great  misfortunes  which  befel  the  city  from  the  Gauls,  are  said 
to  have  proceeded  from  the  violation  of  these  sacred  rites;  for 
when  those  barbarians  were  besieging  Clusium,  Fabius  Am- 
bustus  was  sent  ambassador  to  their  camp,  with  proposals  of 
peace  in  favour  of  the  besieged.  But  receiving  a  harsh  an¬ 
swer,  he  thought  himself  released  from  his  character  of  ambas¬ 
sador,  and  rashly  taking  up  arms  for  the  Clusians,  challenged 
the  bravest  man  in  the  Gaulish  army.  He  proved  victorious, 
indeed,  in  the  combat,  for  he  killed  his  adversary,  and  carri¬ 
ed  off  his  spoils;  but  the  Gauls  having  discovered  who  he  was, 
sent  a  herald  to  Rome  to  accuse  Fabius  of  bearing  arms 
against  them,  contrary  to  treaties  and  good  faith,  and  without 
a  declaration  of  war.  Upon  this  the  feciales  exhorted  the  sen¬ 
ate  to  deliver  him  up  to  the  Gauls;  but  he  applied  to  the  peo¬ 
ple;  and  being  a  favourite  with  them,  was  screened  from  the 

made  by  a  magistrate  or  general.  They  likewise  put  orF  their  mourning  ha¬ 
bit  w  hen  a  father,  brother,  or  son,  returned  from  captivity,  or  when  some  of 
the  family  were  advanced  to  a  considerable  employment. 

*  The  Salii  were  the  guardians  of  the  Jlncilia ,  or  tvVelve  shields  hung  up 
in  the  temple  of  Mars.  They  took  their  name  from  their  dancing  in  the  cele¬ 
bration  of  an  annual  festival  instituted  in  memory  of  a  miraculous  shield 
which  Numa  pretended  fell  down  from  heaven. 

f  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  finds  them  among  the  aborigines;  and  Numa 
is  said  to  have  borrowed  the  institution  from  the  people  of  Latium.  He  ap¬ 
pointed  twenty  feciales ,  chosen  out  of  the  most  eminent  families  in  Rome, 
and  settled  them  in  a  college.  The  pater  patratiis,  who  made  peace  or  de¬ 
nounced  war,  was  probably  one  of  their  body  selected  for  that  purpose,  be¬ 
cause  he  had  both  a  father  and  a  son  alive. — Liv.  1.  i,  c.  24. 


148 


NUMA. 


sentence,  fcoon  after  this  the  Gauls  marched  to  Rome,  and 
sacked  the  whole  city,  except  the  Capitol;  as  we  have  related 
it  large  in  the  life  of  Camillus. 

The  order  of  priests  called  Salii,  is  said  to  have  keen  insti 
toted  on  this  occasion.  In  the  eighth  year  of  Numa’s  reign  a 
pestilence  prevailed  in  Italy;  Rome  also  felt  its  ravages. 
While  the  people  were  greatly  dejected,  we  are  told  that  a 
brazen  buckler  fell  from  heaven  into  the  hands  of  Numa.  Of 
this  he  gave  a  very  wonderful  account,  received  from  Egeria 
and  the  Muses;  that  the  buckler  was  sent  down  for  the  pre¬ 
servation  of  the  city,  and  should  be  kept  with  great  care;  that 
eleven  others  should  be  made  as  like  it  as  possible  in  size  and 
fashion,  in  order,  that  if  any  person  were  disposed  to  steal  it, 
he  might  not  be  able  to  distinguish  that  which  fell  from  heaven 
from  the  rest.  He  farther  declared,  that  the  place,  and  the 
meadows  about  it,  where  he  frequently  conversed  with  the 
Muses,  should  be  consecrated  to  those  divinities;  and  that  the 
spring  which  watered  the  ground,  should  be  sacred  to  the  use 
cf  the  vestal  virgins,  daily  to  sprinkle  and  purify  their  temple. 
The  immediate  cessation  of  the  pestilence  is  said  to  have  con¬ 
firmed  the  truth  of  this  account.  Numa  then  showed  the 
buckler  to  the  artists,  and  commanded  them  to  exert  all  their 
skill  for  an  exact  resemblance.  They  all  declined  the  attempt, 
except  Yeturius  Mamurius,  who  was  so  successful  in  the  imi¬ 
tation,  and  made  the  other  eleven  so  like  it,  that  not  even 
Numa  himself  could  distinguish  them.  He  gave  these  buck¬ 
lers  in  charge  to  the  Salii;  who  did  not  receive  their  name, 
as  some  pretend,  from  Salius  of  Samothrace,  or  Mantinea, 
that  taught  the  way  of  dancing  in  arms,  but  rather  from  the 
subsultive  dance  itself,  which  they  lead  up  along  the  streets, 
when  in  the  month  of  March  they  carry  the  sacred  bucklers 
through  the  city.  On  that  occasion,  they  are  habited  in  pur- 

Ele  vests,  girt  with  broad  belts  of  brass;  they  wear  also  brazen 
elmets,  and  carry  short  swords,  with  which  they  strike  upon 
the  bucklers,  and  to  those  sounds  they  keep  time  with  their 
feet.  They  move  in  an  agreeable  manner,  performing  certain 
involutions  and  evolutions  in  a  quick  measure,  with  vigour, 
agility  and  ease. 

These  bucklers  are  called  Ancilia ,  from  the  form  of  them. 
For  they  are  neither  circular,  nor  yet,  like  the  pelta ,  semicir¬ 
cular,  but  fashioned  in  two  crooked  indented  lines,  the  extre¬ 
mities  of  which  meeting  close,  form  a  curve,  in  Greek,  ancy~ 
Ion.  Or  else  they  may  be  so  named  from  the  ancon ,  or  bend 
of  the  arm ,  on  which  they  are  carried.  This  account  of  the 
matter  we  have  from  Juba,  who  is  very  desirous  to  derive  the 
term  from  the  Greek.  But  if  we  must  have  an  etymology 
from  lhat  language,  it  may  be  taken  from  their  descending 


NUMA. 


149 


unekathen ,  from  on  high;  or  from  akesis ,  their  healing  of  the 
sick;  or  from  auchmon  lusis ,  their  putting  an  end  to  the 
drought;  or,  lastly,  from  anaschesis ,  deliverance  from  calami¬ 
ties;  for  which  reason  also,  Castor  and  Pollux  were  by  the 
Athenians  called  anakes.  The  reward  Mamurius  had  for  his 
art,  was,  we  are  told,  an  ode,  which  the  Salians  sung  in  me¬ 
mory  of  him,  along  with  the  Pyrrhic  dance.  Some,  however, 
say,  it  was  not  Veturius  Mamurius ,  who  was  celebrated  in  that 
composition,  but  vetus  memoria ,  the  ancient  remembrance  of  the 
thing. 

After  Numa  had  instituted  these  several  orders  of  priests, 
he  erected  a  royal  palace,  called  Regia ,  near  the  temple  of 
Vesta;  and  there  he  passed  most  of  his  time,  either  in  per¬ 
forming  some  sacred  function,  or  instructing  the  priests,  or, 
at  least,  in  conversing  with  them  on  some  divine  subject.  He 
had  also  another  house  upon  the  Quirinal  mount,  the  situation1, 
of  which  they  still  show  us.  In  all  public  ceremonies  and 
processions  of  the  priests,  a  herald  went  before,  who  gave  no¬ 
tice  to  the  people  to  keep  holiday;  for,  as  they  tell  us,  the 
Pythagoreans  would  not  suffer  their  disciples  to  pay  any  ho¬ 
mage  or  worship  to  the  gods  in  a  cursory  manner,  but  requir¬ 
ed  them  to  come  prepared  for  it  by  meditation  at  home;  so 
Numa  was  of  opinion,  that  his  citizens  should  neither  see  nor 
hear  any  religious  service  m  a  slight  or  careless  way,  but,  dis¬ 
engaged  from  other  affairs,  bring  with  them  that  attention, 
which  an  object  of  such  importance  required.  The  streets 
and  ways,  on  such  occasions,  were  cleared  of  clamour,  and  all 
manner  of  noise  which  attends  manual  labour,  that  the  solem¬ 
nities  might  not  be  disturbed.  Some  vestiges  of  this  still  re¬ 
main;  for  when  the  consul  is  employed  either  in  augury  or 
sacrificing,  they  call  out  to  the  people,  Hoc  age ,  Mind  this;  and 
thus  admonished  them  to  be  orderly  and  attentive. 

Many  other  of  his  institutions  resemble  those  of  the  Pytha  ¬ 
goreans.  For  as  these  had  precepts,  which  enjoined  not  to 
sit  upon  a  bushel;* * * §  not  to  stir  the  fire  with  a  sword ;t  not  to 
turn  back  upon  a  journey  to  offer  an  odd  number  to  the  ce¬ 
lestial  gods,  and  an  even  one  to  the  terrestrial  ;§  the  sense  of 

*  That  is,  not  to  give  up  ourselves  to  idleness. 

j-  Not  to  irritate  him  who  is  already  angry. 

t  In  another  place  Plutarch  gives  this  precept  thus,  Never  return  from  iht 
borders  But  the  sense  is  the  same;  Die  like  a  man;  do  not  long  aftei  lift, 
when  b  is  departing,  or  wish  to  be  young  again. 

§  The  Pagans  looked  on  an  odd  number  as  the  more  perfect,  and  the  sym¬ 
bol  of  concord,  because  it  can  not  be  divided  into  two  equal  parts,  as  the 
even  number  may,  which  is,  therefore,  the  symbol  of  division.  This  pre¬ 
judice  was  not  only  the  reason  why  the  first  month  was  consecrated  to  the 
celestial,  and  the  second  to  the  terrestrial  deities;  but  gave  birth  to  a  thou- 


150 


NUMA. 


which  precepts  is  hid  from  the  vulgar;  so  some  of  Numa’s 
have  a  concealed  meaning;  as,  not  to  offer  to  the  gods  wm 
proceeding  from  a  vine  unpruned;  nor  to  sacrifice  withou 
meal;*  to  turn  round  when  you  worship :t  and  to  sit  down 
when  you  have  worshipped.  The  two  first  precepts  seem  to 
recommend  agriculture  as  a  part  of  religion.  And  the  turn¬ 
ing  round  in  adoration,  is  said  to  represent  the  circular  motion 
of  the  world.  But  I  rather  think,  that  as  the  temples  opened 
towards  the  east,  such  as  entered  them  necessarily  turning 
their  backs  upon  the  rising  sun,  made  a  half  turn  to  that  quar 
ter,  in  honour  of  the  god  of  day,  and  then  completed,  the  cir¬ 
cle,  as  well  as  their  devotions,  with  their  faces  towards  the 
god  of  the  temple;  unless,  perhaps,  this  change  of  posture  may 
have  an  enigmatical  meaning,  like  the  Egyptian  wheels,  ad¬ 
monishing  us  of  the  instability  of  every  thing  human,  and  pre¬ 
paring  us  to  acquiesce,  and  rest  satisfied,  with  whatever  turns 
and  changes  the  Divine  Being  allots  us.  As  for  sitting  down 
after  an  act  of  religion,  they  tell  us  it  was  intended  as  an  omen 
of  success  in  prayer,  and  of  lasting  happiness  afterwards. 
They  add,  that  as  actions  are  divided  by  intervals  of  rest,  so, 
when  one  business  was  over,  they  sat  down  in  the  presence  of 
the  gods,  that  under  their  auspicious  conduct  they  might  begin 
another.  Nor  is  this  repugnant  to  what  has  been  already  ad¬ 
vanced;  since  the  lawgiver  wanted  to  accustom  us  to  address 
the  deity,  not  in  the  midst  of  business  or  hurry,  but  when  we 
have  time  and  leisure  to  do  it  as  we  ought. 

By  this  sort  of  religious  discipline,  the  people  became  so 
tractable,  and  were  impressed  with  such  a  veneration  of  Nu¬ 
ma’s  power,  that  they  admitted  many  improbable,  and  even 
fabulous  tales,  and  thought  nothing  incredible  or  impossible 
which  he  undertook.  Thus  he  is  said  to  have  invited  many 
of  the  citizens  to  his  table,  J  where  he  took  care  the  vessels 
should  be  mean,  and  the  provisions  plain  and  inelegant;  but 
after  they  were  seated,  he  told  them,  the  goddess  with  whom 
he  used  to  converse,  was  coming  to  visit  him,  when,  on  a  sud¬ 
den,  the  room  was  supplied  with  the  most  costly  vessels,  and 

sand  superstitious  practices,  which,  in  some  countries,  are  still  kept  up  by 
those  whom  reason  and  religion  ought  to  have  undeceived. 

*  The  principal  intention  of  tills  precept  might  be  to  wean  them  from 
crifices  of  blood,  and  to  bring  them  to  offer  only  cakes  and  figures  of  animals 
made  of  paste. 

j-  Probably  to  represent  the  immensity  of  the  godhead. 

i  Dyonisius  tells  us,  that  Numa  showed  these  Romans  all  the  rooms  of  Ills 
palace  in  the  morning,  meanly  furnished,  and  without  any  signs  of  a  great  en¬ 
tertainment;  that  he  kept  them  with  him  great  part  of  the  day;  and  when 
they  returned  to  sup  with  him  by  invitation  in  the  evening,  they  found  every 
tiling  surprisingly  magnificent.  It  is  likely  Numa  imputed  the  change  to 
His  invisible  friend. 


NUMA. 


151 


the  table  with  the  most  magnificent  entertainment.  But  no¬ 
thing  can  be  imagined  more  absurd,  than  what  is  related  of 
his  conversation  with  Jupiter.  The  story  goes,  that  when 
Mount  Aventine  was  not  enclosed  within  the  walls,  nor  yet  in¬ 
habited,  but  abounded  with  flowing  springs  and  shady  groves, 
it  was  frequented  by  two  demi-gods,  Picus  and  Faunus.  These, 
in  other  respects,  were  like  the  Satyrs,  or  the  race  of  Titans;* 
but  in  the  wonderful  feats  they  performed  by  their  skill  ir 
pharmacy  and  magic,  more  resembled  the  Idsei  Dactyli\  (as  the 
Greeks  call  them;)  and  thus  provided,  they  roamed  about 
Italy.  They  tell  us,  that  Numa,  having  mixed  the  fountain 
of  which  they  used  to  drink  with  wine  and  honey,  surprised 
and  caught  them.  Upon  this,  they  turned  themselves  into 
many  forms,  and  quitting  their  natural  figure,  assumed  strange 
and  horrible  appearances.  But  when  they  found  they  could 
not  break  or  escape  from  the  bond  that  held  them,  they  ac¬ 
quainted  him  with  many  secrets  of  futurity,  and  taught  him 
a  charm  for  thunder  and  lightning,  composed  of  onions,  hair, 
and  pilchards,  which  is  used  to  this  day.  Others  say,  these 
demi-gods  did  not  communicate  the  charm,  but  that  by  the 
force  of  magic  they  brought  down  Jupiter  from  heaven.  The 
god,  resenting  this  at  Numa’s  hands,  ordered  the  charm  to  con 
sist  of  heads.  Of  onions,  replied  Numa.  No,  human . — Hairs , 
said  Numa,  desirous  to  fence  against  the  dreadful  injunction, 
and  interrupting  the  god.  Living ,  said  Jupiter;  pilchards ,  said 
Numa.  He  was  instructed,  it  seems,  by  Egeria,  how  to 
manage  the  matter.  Jupiter  went  away  propitious,  in  Greek 
ileos ,  whence  the  place  was  called  Iliciam;%  and  so  the  charm 
was  effected.  These  things,  fabulous  and  ridiculous  as  they 
are,  show  how  superstition,  confirmed  by  custom,  operated 
upon  the  minds  of  the  people.  As  for  Numa  himself,  he 
placed  his  confidence  so  entirely  in  God,  that  when  one  brought 


*  Some  manuscripts  give  us  navav  instead  of  T navov,  which  is  a  better 
reading,  because  Picus  and  Faunus  were  horned  Sylvan  deities,  like  Pan. 

f  Diodorus  tells  us  from  Ephorus,  the  Idsei  Dactyli  were  originally  from 
Mount  Ida,  in  Phrygia,  from  whence  they  passed  into  Europe  with  king 
Mines.  They  settled  first  in  Samothrace,  where  they  taught  the  inhabitants 
religious  rites.  Orpheus  is  thought  to  have  been  their  disciple;  and  the  first 
that  carried  a  form  of  worship  over  into  Greece.  The  Dactyli  are  likewise 
said  to  have  found  out  the  use  of  fire,  and  to  have  discovered  the  nature  of 
in>n  and  brass  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  country  adjoining  to  mount  Berecyn- 
th  is,  and  to  have  taught  them  the  way  of  working  them.  For  this,  and 
mLny  other  useful  discoveries,  they  were,  after  their  death,  worshipped  as 
gods. 

*  This  is  Plutarch’s  mistake.  Ovid  informs  us  (Fast.  1.  iii.)  that  Jupiter  was 
called  Elicius  from  elicere ,  to  draw  out ,  because  Jupiter  was  drawn  out  of 
Ueaven  on  this  occasion. 


162 


NUMA. 


him  word  the  enemy  was  coming,  he  only  smiled,  saying 
“  And  1  am  sacrificing.” 

He  is  recorded  to  have  been  the  first  that  built  temples  to 
Fides ,*  or  Faith,  and  to  Terminus ,-t  and  he  taught  the  Romans 
to  swear  by  faith ,  as  the  greatest  of  oaths;  which  they  still 
continue  to  make  use  of.  In  our  times  they  sacrifice  animals 
in  the  fields,  both  on  public  and  private  occasions,  to  Terminus } 
as  the  god  of  boundaries;  but  formerly  the  offering  was  an  in¬ 
animate  one;  for  Numa  argued  that  there  should  be  no  effu¬ 
sion  of  blood  in  the  rites  of  a  god,  who  is  the  witness  of  jus¬ 
tice,  and  guardian  of  peace.  It  is  indeed  certain,  that  Numa 
was  the  first  that  marked  out  the  bounds  of  the  Roman  terri¬ 
tory;  Romulus  being  unwilling,  by  measuring  out  his  own,  to 
show  how  much  he  had  encroached  upon  the  neighbouring 
countries;  for  bounds,  if  preserved,  are  barriers  against  law¬ 
less  power;  if  violated,  they  are  evidences  of  injustice.  The 
territory  of  the  cky  was  by  no  means  extensive  at  first,  but 
Romulus  added  to  it  a  considerable  district  gained  by  the 
sword.  All  this  Numa  divided  among  the  indigent  citizens, 
that  poverty  might  not  drive  them  to  rapine;  and  as  he  turn¬ 
ed  the  application  of  the  people  to  agriculture,  their  temper'was 
subdued  together  with  the  ground.  For  no  occupation  im- 

fdants  so  speedy  and  so  effectual  a  love  of  peace  as  a  country 
ife,  where  there  remains  indeed  courage  and  bravery  sufficient 
to  defend  their  property,  but  the  temptations  to  injustice  and 
avarice  are  removed.  Numa,  therefore,  introduced  among 
his  subjects  an  attachment  to  husbandry,  as  a  charm  of  peace; 
and  contriving  a  business  for  them  which  would  rather  form 
their  manners  to  simplicity,  than  raise  them  to  opulence,  he 
divided  the  country  into  several  portions,  which  he  called  pagi, 
or  boroughs,  and  appointed  over  each  of  them  a  governor  or 
overseer.  Sometimes  he  also  inspected  them  himself;  and 
judging  of  the  disposition  of  the  people  by  the  condition  of 


*  This  was  intended  to  make  the  Romans  pay  as  much  regard  to  their 
word,  as  to  a  contract  in  writing.  And  so  excellent,  in  fact,  were  their 
principles,  that  Polybius  gives  the  Romans  of  his  time  this  honourable  testi¬ 
mony: — u  They  most  inviolably  keep  their  word,  without  being  obliged  to 
it  by  bail,  witness,  or  promise;  whereas,  ten  securities,  twenty  promises, 
and  as  many  witnesses,  can  not  hinder  the  faithless  Greeks  from  attempting 
to  deceive  and  disappoint  you.”  No  wonder,  then,  that  so  virtuous  a  peo¬ 
ple  wTere  victorious  over  those  that  were  become  thus  degenerate  and  dis- 
honest. 

The  Dii  Termini  were  represented  by  stones,  which  Numa  caused  to  be 
placed  on  the  borders  of  the  Roman  state,  and  of  each  man’s  private  lands. 
In  honour  of  these  deities,  he  instituted  a  festival  called  Terminalia ,  which 
was  annually  celebrated  on  the  22d  or  23d  of  February.  To  remove  the  Dii 
Termini  was  deemed  a  sacrilege  of  so  heinous  a  nature,  that  any  man  might 
kill,  with  impunity,  the  transgressor. 


NUMA, 


1  bcS 


their  farms,  some  he  advanced  to  posts  of  honour  and  trust; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  he  reprimanded  and  endeavoured  to 
reform  the  negligent  and  the  idle.* 

But  the  most  admired  of  all  his  institutions,  is  his  distribu¬ 
tion  of  the  citizens  into  companies,  according  to  their  arts 
und  trades.  For  the  city  consisting,  as  we  have  observed, 
of  two  nations,  or  rather  factions,  who  were  by  no  means  will 
ing  to  unite,  or  to  blot  out  the  remembrance  of  their  original 
difference,  but  maintained  perpetual  contests  and  party  quar¬ 
rels,  he  took  the  same  method  with  them  as  is  used  to  incor¬ 
porate  hard  and  solid  bodies;  which,  while  entire,  will  not 
mix  at  all,  but  when  reduced  to  powder,  unite  with  ease.  To 
attain  his  purpose,  he  divided,  as  I  said,  the  whole  multitude 
into  small  bodies,  who  gaining  new  distinctions,  lost  by  de¬ 
grees  the  great  and  original  one,  in  consequence  of  their  be¬ 
ing  thus  broken  into  so  many  parts.  This  distribution  was 
made  according  to  the  several  arts  or  trades,  of  musicians, 
goldsmiths,  masons,  dyers,  shoemakers,  tanners,  braziers,  and 
potters.  He  collected  the  other  artificers  also  into  companies, 
who  had  their  respective  halls,  courts,  and  religious  ceremo¬ 
nies,  peculiar  to  each  society.  By  these  means  he  first  took 
away  the  distinction  of  Sabines  and  Romans,  subjects  of  Ta- 
tius,  and  subjects  of  Romulus,  both  name  and  thing;  the  very 
separation  into  parts  mixing  and  incorporating  the  whole  to 
gether. 

He  is  celebrated  also,  in  his  political  capacity,  for  correct¬ 
ing  the  law  which  empowered  fathers  to  sell  their  children, t 
excepting  such  as  married  by  their  father’s  command  or  con¬ 
sent;  for  he  reckoned  it  a  great  hardship,  that  a  woman  should 
marry  a  man  as  free,  and  then  live  with  him  as  a  slave. 

He  attempted  the  reformation  of  the  calendar  too,  which  he 
executed  with  some  degree  of  skill,  though  not  with  absolute 
exactness.  In  the  reign  of  Romulus,  it  had  neither  measure 
nor  order,  some  months  consisting  of  fewer  than  twenty  days,f 

*  To  neglect  the  cultivation  of  a  farm,  was  considered  amongst  the  Ro¬ 
mani  as  a  censorium  probrum ,  a  fault  that  merited  the  chastisement  of  the 
censor. 

■(■  Romulus  had  allowed  fathers  greater  power  over  their  children  than 
masters  had  over  their  slaves.  For  2  master  could  sell  his  slave  but  once, 
whereas  a  father  could  sell  his  son  t  iree  times,  let  him  be  of  what  age  or 
condition  soever. 

$  But  Macrobius  tells  us,  (Satumal.  1.  i.  c.  12,)  that  Romulus  settled  the 
number  of  days  with  more  equality,  allotting  to  March,  May,  Quintilis,  and 
October,  one  and  thirty  days  each;  to  April,  June,  Sextilis,  November  and 
December,  thirty;  making  up  in  all  three  hundred  and  four  days.  Numa 
was  better  acquainted  with  the  celestial  motions;  and  therefore,  in  the  first 
place,  added  the  two  months  of  January  and  February.  By  the  way,  it  is 
probable  the  reader  will  think,  that  neither  Romulus,  nor  any  other  man, 

Vor..  1. - Y  15 


154 


NUMA 


while  some  were  stretched  to  thirty-five,  and  others  even  to 
more.  They  had  no  idea  of  the  difference  between  the  an 
nual  coarse  of  the  sun  and  that  of  the  moon,  and  only  laid 
down  this  position,  that  the  year  consisted  of  three  hundred 
and  sixty  days.  Numa,  then,  observing  that  there  was  a  dif¬ 
ference  of  eleven  days,  three  hundrea  and  fifty-four  days 
making  up  the  lunar  year,  and  three  hundred  and  sixty-five 
the  solar,  doubled  those  eleven  days,  and  inserted  them  as  an 
intercalary  month,  after  that  of  February,  every  other  year. 
This  additional  month  was  called  by  the  Romans  Mercedlnus. 
But  this  amendment  of  the  irregularity  afterwards  required  a 
farther  amendment.  He  likewise  altered  the  order  of  the 
months,  making  March  the  third,  which  was  the  first;  January 
first,  which  was  the  eleventh  of  Romulus,  and  February  the 
second,  which  was  the  twelfth  and  last.  Many,  however, 
assert,  that  the  two  months  of  January  and  February  were 
added  by  Numa,  whereas,  before  they  had  reckoned  but  ten 
months  in  the  year,  as  some  barbarous  nations  had  but  three; 
and  among  the  Greeks,  the  Arcadians  four,  and  the  Acarna- 
nians  six.  The  Egyptian  year,  they  tell  us,  at  first  consisted 
only  of  one  month,  afterwards  of  four.  And  therefore,  though 
they  inhabit  a  new  country,  they  seem  to  be  a  very  ancient 
people,  and  reckon  in  their  chronology  an  incredible  number 
of  years,  because  they  account  months  for  years.  * 

could  be  so  ignorant  as  to  make  the  lunar  year  consist  of  three  hundred  and 
four  days;  and  that  the  Romans  reckoned  by  lunar  months,  and  consequent¬ 
ly  by  the  lunar  year,  originally,  is  plain  from  their  calends,  nones,  and  ides. 
To  compose  these  two  months,  he  added  fifty  days  to  the  three  hundred  and 
forr,  in  order  to  make  them  answer  to  the  course  of  the  moon.  Besides  this, 
he  observed  the  difference  between  the  solar  and  the  lunar  course  to  be  ele¬ 
ven  days;  and,  to  remedy  the  inequality,  he  doubled  those  days  after  every 
two  years,  adding  an  interstitial  month  after  February;  which  Plutarch  here 
calls  Mercedinusy  and,  in  tire  file  of  Julius  Caesar,  Mercedonius.  Festus 
speaks  of  certain  days,  which  he  calls  Dies  Mercedonii,  because  they  were 
appointed  for  the  payment  of  workmen  and  domestics,  which  is  all  we  know 
of  the  word.  As  Numa  was  sensible  that  the  solar  year  consisted  of  three 
hundred  and  sixty-five  days  and  six  hours,  and  that  the  six  hours  made  a 
whole  day  in  four  years,  he  commanded,  that  the  month  Mercedinus,  after 
every  four  years,  should  consist  of  twenty-three  days;  but  the  care  of  these 
intercalations  being  left  to  the  priests,  they  put  in  or  left  out  the  intercalary 
day  or  month  as  they  fancied  it  lucky  or  unlucky;  and,  by  that  means,  crea¬ 
ted  such  a  confusion,  that  the  festivals  came,  in  process  of  time,  to  be  kept 
at  a  season  quite  contrary  to  what  they  had  been  formerly.  The  Roman 
calendar  had  gained  near  three  months  in  the  days  of  Julius  Caesar,  and 
therefore  wanted  a  great  reformation  again. 

*  To  suppose  the  Egyptians  reckoned  months  for  years,  does  indeed  bring 
their  computation  pretty  near  the  truth,  with  respect  to  the  then  age  of  the 
world;  for  they  reckoned  a  succession  of  kings  for  the  space  of  36,000  years. 
But  that  supposition  would  make  the  reigns  of  their  kings  unreasonably 
short.  Besides,  Herodotus  says,  the  Egyptians  were  the  first  that  began  to 


NUMA. 


155 


That  the  Roman  year  contained  at  first  ten  months  only, 
and  not  twelve,  we  have  a  proof  in  the  name  of  the  last;  for 
they  still  call  it  December,  or  the  tenth  month;  and  that  March 
was  the  first,  is  also  evident,  because  the  fifth  from  it  was  call¬ 
ed  Quintilis ,  the  sixth  Sextilis ,  and  so  the  rest  in  their  order. 
If  January  and  February  had  then  been  placed  before  March, 
the  month  Quintilis  would  have  been  the  fifth  in  name,  but  the 
seventh  in  reckoning.  Besides,  it  is  reasonable  to  conclude, 
that  the  month  of  March,  dedicated  by  Romulus  to  the  god 
Mars ,  should  stand  first;  and  April  second,  which  has  its  name 
from  Aphrodite  or  Venus ,  for  in  this  month  the  women  sacrifice 
to  that  goddess,  and  bathe  on  the  first  of  it,  with  crowns  of 
myrtle  on  their  heads.  Some  however  say,  April  derives  not 
its  name  from  Aphrodite ;  but  as  the  very  sound  of  the  term 
seems  to  dictate,  from  aperire ,  to  open ,  because  the  spring  hav¬ 
ing  then  attained  its  vigour,  it  opens  and  unfolds  the  blossoms 
of  plants.  The  next  month,  which  is  that  of  May,  is  so  call¬ 
ed  from  Maia ,  the  mother  of  Mercury;  for  to  him  it  is  sacred. 
June  is  so  styled  from  the  youthful  season  of  the  year.  Some 
again  inform  us,  that  these  two  months  borrow  their  names 
from  the  two  ages,  old  and  young;  for  the  older  men  are  called 
majores ,  and  the  younger  juniores.  The  succeeding  months 
were  denominated  according  to  their  order,  of  fifth,  sixth, 
seventh,  eighth,  ninth,  tenth.  Afterwards  Quintilis  was  called 
July,  in  honour  of  Julius  Caesar,  who  overcame  Pompey;  and 
Sextilis  August,  from  Augustus,  the  second  emperor  of  Rome. 
To  the  two  following  months  Domitian  gave  his  two  names  of 
Germanicus  and  Domitianus ,  which  lasted  but  a  little  while;  for 
when  he  was  slain,  they  resumed  their  old  names,  September 
and  October.  The  two  last  were  the  only  ones  that  all  along 
retained  the  original  appellation  which  they  had  from  their 
order.  February,  which  was  either  added  or  transposed  by 
Numa,  is  the  month  of  purification;  for  so  the  term  signifies; 
and  then  rites  are  celebrated  for  the  purifying  of  trees,*  and 

compute  by  years;  and  that  they  made  the  yea”  consist  of  twelve  months. 
Their  boasted  antiquity  must,  therefore,  be  imputed  to  their  stretching*  the 
fabulous  part  of  their  history  too  far  back.  As  to  Plutarch’s  saying*  that 
Egypt  was  a  new  country,  it  is  strang*e  that  such  a  notion  could  ever  be  en¬ 
tertained  by  a  man  of  his  knowledge. 

*  Another  reading  has  it,  *rot;  <pnoic  tv&ytfxrt,  instead  of  ao/c  <purcjc:  and 
then  the  sense  w:ll  be,  they  sacrifice  to  the  dead .  Both  have  their  authori¬ 
ties:  the  common  reading  being  supported  by  a  passage  in  Ovid,  who  takes 
notice  that  the  1  uperci  purified  the  ground: — 

Seda  quia  pelle  Luperci 

Omne  solum  lustrant.  Lib.  ii.  Fast. 

And  the  other  which  seems  the  better,  rests  upon  the  authority  of  Vane 


156 


NU'MA. 


procuring  a  blessing  of  their  fruits;  then  also  the  feast  of  tlie 
Lupercalia  is  held,  whose  ceremonies  greatly  resemble  those  ot 
a  lustration.  January,  the  first  month,  is  so  named  from  Janus . 
And  Numa  seems  to  me  to  have  taken  away  the  precedency 
from  March,  which  is  denominated  from  the  god  of  war,  with 
a  design  to  show  his  preference  of  the  political  virtues  to  the 
martial.  For  this  Janus ,  in  the  most  remote  antiquity,  whe¬ 
ther- a  demigod  or  a  king,  being  remarkable  for  his  political 
abilities,  and  his  cultivation  of  society,  reclaimed  men  from 
their  rude  and  savage  manners;  he  is  therefore  represented 
with  two  faces,  as  having  altered  the  former  state  of  the  world, 
and  given  quite  a  new  turn  to  life.  He  has  also  a  temple  at 
Rome  with  two  gates,  which  they  call  the  gates  of  war.  It  is 
the  custom  for  this  temple  to  stand  open  in  the  time  of  war, 
and  to  be  shut  in  time  of  peace.  The  latter  was  seldom  the 
case,  as  the  empire  has  been  generally  engaged  in  war,  on  ac¬ 
count  of  its  great  extent,  and  its  having  to  contend  with  so 
many  surrounding  barbarous  nations.  It  has  therefore  been 
shut  only  in  the  reign  of  Augustus  Caesar,*  when  he  had  con 
quered  Antony;  and  before,  in  the  consulate  of  Marcus  Attili- 
ust  and  Titus  Manlius  a  little  while;  for  a  new  war  breaking 
out,  it  was  soon  opened  again.  In  Numa’s  reign,  however,  it 
was  not  opened  for  one  day,  but  stood  constantly  shut  during 
the  space  of  forty-three  years,  while  uninterrupted  peace  reign¬ 
ed  in  every  quarter.  Not  only  the  people  of  Rome  were  soft' 
ened  and  humanized  by  the  justice  and  mildness  of  the  king, 
but  even  the  circumjacent  cities,  breathing  as  it  were  the  same 
salutary  and  delightful  air,  began  to  change  their  behaviour. 
Like  the  Romans,  they  became  desirous  of  peace  and  good 
laws,  of  cultivating  the  ground,  educating  their  children  in  tran¬ 
quillity,  and  paying  their  homage  to  the  gods.  Italy  then  was 
taken  up  with  festivals  and  sacrifices,  games  and  entertain¬ 
ments;  the  people,  without  any  apprehensions  of  danger,  mix¬ 
ed  in  a  friendly  manner,  and  treated  each  other  with  mutual 
hospitality ;  the  love  of  virtue  and  justice,  as  from  the  source  of 
Numa’s  wisdom,  gently  flowing  upon  all,  and  moving  with 
the  composure  of  his  heart.  Even  the  hyperbolical  expres¬ 
and  others,  who  mention  an  offering  to  the  dead  in  the  month  of  February. 
—Ab  deis  inferis  Februaris  appellatus ,  quod  tunc  his  par entctur. 

*  Augustus  shut  the  temple  of  Janus  three  several  times;  one  of  which 
was  in  the  year  of  Rome  750,  before  the  birth  of  our  Saviour,  according  to 
Isaiah’s  prophecy,  that  all  the  world  should  be  blest  with  peace,  when  the 
Prince  of  Peace  was  bom.  This  temple  was  also  shut  by  Vespasian  after 
his  triumph  over  the  Jews. 

•f-  Instead  of  Marcus  we  should  read  Caius  Attilius.  Titus  Manlius,  his 
colleague,  shut  the  temple  of  Janus  at  the  conclusion  of  the  first  Punic  war 


NUMA.  157 

sions  of  the  poets  fall  short  of  describing  the  happiness  of 
those  days: — 

Secure  Arachne  spreads  her  slender  toils 
O'er  the  broad  buckler;  eating  rust  consum’d 
The  vengeful  swords  and  once  far-gleaming  spears; 

No  more  the  trump  of  war  swells  its  hoarse  throat. 

Nor  robs  the  eye-lids  of  their  genial  slumber.* 

We  have  no  account  of  either  war  or  insurrection  in  the  state 
during  Numa’s  reign.  Nay,  he  experienced  neither  enmity 
nor  envy;  nor  did  ambition  dictate  either  open  or  private  at¬ 
tempts  against  his  crown.  Whether  it  were  the  fear  of  the 
gods,  who  took  so  pious  a  man  under  their  protection,  or  re¬ 
verence  of  his  virtue,  or  the  singular  good  fortune  of  his  times, 
that  kept  the  manners  of  men  pure  and  unsullied,  he  was  an 
illustrious  instance  of  that  truth,  which  Plato  several  ages  after 
ventured  to  deliver  concerning  government: — “  That  the  only 
sure  prospect  of  deliverance  from  the  evils  of  life,  will  be, 
when  the  Divine  Providence  shall  so  order  it,  that  the  regal 

f)Ower,  invested  in  a  prince  who  has  the  sentiments  of  a  phi- 
osopher,  shall  render  virtue  triumphant  over  vice.”  A  man 
of  such  wisdom  is  not  only  happy  in  himself,  but  contributes 
by  his  instructions  to  the  happiness  of  others.  There  is,  in 
truth,  no  need  either  of  force  or  menaces  to  direct  the  multi¬ 
tude;  for  when  they  see  virtue  exemplified  in  so  glorious  a 
pattern  as  the  life  of  their  prince,  they  become  wise  of  them¬ 
selves,  and  endeavour,  by  friendship  and  unanimity,  by  a 
strict  regard  to  justice  and  temperance,  to  form  themselves  to 
an  innocent  and  happy  life.  This  is  the  noblest  end  of  govern¬ 
ment;  and  he  is  most  worthy  of  the  royal  seat  who  can  regulate 
the  lives  and  dispositions  of  his  subjects  in  such  a  manner 
No  man  was  more  sensible  of  this  than  Numa. 

As  to  his  wives  and  children,  there  are  great  contradictions 
among  historians.  For  some  say  he  had  no  wife  but  Tatia, 
nor  any  child  but  one  daughter  named  Pompilia.  Others, 
beside  that  daughter,  give  an  account  of  four  sons.  Pompon, 
Pinus,  Calpus,  and  Mamercus;  every  one  of  which  left  an 
honourable  posterity — The  Pomponii  being  descended  from 
Pompon,  the  Pinarii  from  Pinus,  the  Calpurnii  from  Calpus, 
and  the  Mamercii  from  Mamercus.  These  were  surnamed 
Eeges ,  or  kings,  t  But  a  third  set  of  writers  accuse  the  former 

*  Plutarch  took  this  passage  from  some  excellent  verses  of  Bacchylidea 
in  praise  of  peace,  given  us  by  Stobaeus. 

t  Rex  was  the  surname  of  the  iEmilians  and  Marcians,  but  not  of  the  Pom- 
ponians,  the  Pinarians,  or  Mamercians.  The  Pinarii  were  descended  from 
a  family  who  were  priests  of  Hercules,  and  more  ancient  than  the  times  of 
Numa. 


15* 


[58 


NUMA. 


of  forging  these  genealogies  from  Numa,  in  order  to  ingratiate 
themselves  with  particular  families.  And  they  tell  us,  that 
Pompilia  was  not  the  daughter  of  Tatia,  but  of  Lucretia,  ano¬ 
ther  wife,  whom  he  married  after  he  ascended  the  throne.  All 
however  agree,  that  Pompilia  was  married  to  Marcius,  son 
of  that  Marcius  who  persuaded  Numa  to  accept  the  crown; 
for  he  followed  him  to  Rome,  where  he  was  enrolled  a  sena 
tor,  and  after  Numa’s  death,  was  competitor  with  Tull  us 
Hostilius  for  the  throne;  but  failing  in  the  enterprise,  he  starv¬ 
ed  himself  to  death.  His  son  Marcius,  husband  to  Pompilia, 
remained  in  Rome,  and  had  a  son  named  Ancus  Marcius, 
who  reigned  after  Tullus  Hostilius.  This  son  is  said  to  have 
been  but  five  years  old  at  the  death  of  Numa. 

Numa  was  carried  off  by  no  sudden  or  acute  distemper;  but, 
as  Piso  relates,  wasted  aw~ay  insensibly  with  old  age  and  a 
gentle  decline.  He  was  some  few  years  above  eighty  when 
he  died. 

The  neighbouring  nations  that  were  in  friendship  and  alii 
ance  with  Rome,  strove  to  make  the  honours  of  his  burial 
equal  to  the  happiness  of  his  life,  attending  with  crowns  and 
other  public  offerings.  The  Senators  carried  the  bier,  and  the 
ministers  of  the  gods  walked  in  procession.  The  rest  of  the 
people,  with  the  women  and  children,  crowded  to  the  funeral; 
not  as  if  they  were  attending  the  interment  of  an  aged  king, 
but  as  if  they  had  lost  one  of  their  beloved  relations  in  the 
bloom  of  life;  for  they  followed  it  with  tears  and  loud  lamen¬ 
tations.  They  did  not  burn  the  body,*  because  (as  we  are 
told)  he  himself  forbade  it;  but  they  made  two  stone  coffins, 
and  buried  them  under  the  Janiculum;  the  one  containing  his 
body,  and  the  other  the  sacred  books  which  he  had  written 
in  the  same  manner  as  the  Grecian  legislators  wrote  their  ta¬ 
bles  of  laws. 

Numa  had  taken  care,  however,  in  his  life  time,  to  instruct 
the  priests  in  all  that  those  books  contained,  and  to  impress 
both  the  sense  and  practice  on  their  memories.  He  then  or¬ 
dered  them  to  be  buried  with  him,  persuaded  that  such  myste- 


*  In  the  most  ancient  times  they  committed  the  bodies  of  the  dead  to  the 
ground,  as  appears  from  the  history  of  the  patriarchs.  But  the  Egyptians, 
from  a  vain  desire  of  preserving  their  bodies  from  corruption  after  death, 
had  them  embalmed;  persons  of  condition  with  rich  spices,  and  even  the 
poor  had  theirs  preserved  with  salt.  The  Greeks,  to  obviate  the  inconve¬ 
niences  that  might  possibly  happen  from  corruption,  burnt  the  bodies  of  the 
dead;  but  Pliny  tells  us,  that  Sylla  was  the  first  Roman  whose  body  wa? 
burnt.  When  paganism  was  abolished,  the  burning  of  dead  bodies  ceased 
with  it;  and  in  the  belief  of  the  resurrection,  Christians  committed  their 
dead  with  due  care  and  b^our  to  the  earth,  to  repose  there  till  that  great 
event. 


NUMA 


1 5C1 


nes  coulJ  not  safely  exist  in  lifeless  writing.  Influenced  by 
the  same  reasoning,  it  is  said,  the  Pythagoreans  did  not  com¬ 
mit  their  precepts  to  writing,  but  entrusted  them  to  the  me¬ 
mories  of  such  as  they  thought  worthy  of  so  great  a  deposit. 
And  when  they  happened  to  communicate  to  an  unworthy 
person  their  abstruse  problems  in  geometry,  they  gave  out 
that  the  gods  threatened  to  avenge  his  profaneness  and  impiety 
with  some  great  and  signal  calamity.  Those,  therefore,  may 
be  well  excused  who  endeavour  to  prove  by  so  many  resem¬ 
blances  that  Numa  was  acquainted  with  Pythagoras.  Vale¬ 
rius  Antius  relates,  that  there  were  twelve  books  written  in 
Latin,  concerning  religion,  and  twelve  more  of  philosophy,  in 
Greek,  buried  in  that  coffin.  But  four  hundred  years  after, * 
when  Publius  Cornelius  and  Marcus  Baebius  were  consuls,  a 
prodigious  fall  of  rain  having  washed  away  the  earth  that  co¬ 
vered  the  coffins,  and  the  lids  falling  off,  one  of  them  appear¬ 
ed  entirely  empty,  without  the  least  remains  of  the  body;  in 
the  other,  the  books  were  found.  Petilius,  then  praetor,  hav¬ 
ing  examined  them,  made  his  report  upon  oath  to  the  senate, 
that  it  appeared  to  him  inconsistent  both  with  justice  and  re 
ligion,  to  make  them  public.  In  consequence  of  which  all  the 
volumes  were  carried  into  the  Comitium,  and  burnt. 

Glory  follows  in  the  train  of  great  men,  and  increases  after 
their  death;  for  envy  does  not  long  survive  them;  nay,  it 
sometimes  dies  before  them.  The  misfortunes,  indeed,  of 
the  succeeding  kings  added  lustre  to  the  character  of  Numa. 
Of  the  five  that  came  after  him,  the  last  was  driven  from  the 
throne,  and  lived  long  in  exile;  and  of  the  other  four,  not  one 
died  a  natural  death.  Three  were  traitorously  slain.  As  for 
Tullus  Hostilius,  who  reigned  next  after  Numa,  he  ridiculed 
and  despised  many  of  his  best  institutions,  particularly  his  re¬ 
ligious  ones,  as  effeminate  and  tending  to  inaction;  for  his 
view  was  to  dispose  the  people  to  war.  He  did  not,  however, 
abide  by  his  irreligious  opinions,  but  falling  into  a  severe  and 

*  Plutarch  probably  wrote  five  hundred;  for  this  happened  in  the  year  of 
Rome  573.  One  Tercntius,”  says  Varro,  ap.  IS.  August,  de.  Civ. *  Dei.J 
•‘had  a  piece  of  ground  near  the  Janiculum;  and  a  husbandman  of  his  of' 
day  accidentally  running*  over  Numa’s  tomb,  turned  up  some  of  the  legislator’ 
books,  wherein  he  g*ave  his  reasons  for  establishing  the  religion  of  the  Ro 
mans,  as  he  left  it.  The  husbandman  carried  these  books  to  the  praetor,  and 
the  praetor  to  the  senate,  who,  after  having  read  his  frivolous  reasons  for  his 
religious  establishments,  agreed,  that  the  books  should  be  destroyed,  in  pur¬ 
suance  of  Numa’s  intentions.  It  was  accordingly  decreed,  that  the  praetor 
should  throw  them  into  the  fire.”  But  though  Numa’s  motives  for  the  re¬ 
ligion  he  established  might  be  trivial  enough,  that  was  not  the  chief  reason 
for  suppressing  them.  The  real,  at  least  the  principal  reason,  was  the  many 
new  superstitions,  equally  trivial,  which  the  Romans  had  introduced,  and  the 
worship  which  they  paid  to  images,  contrary  to  Numa’s  appointment. 


160 


NUMA. 


complicated  sickness,  he  changed  them  for  a  superstition,* 
very  different  from  Numa’s  piety.  Others,  too,  were  infect¬ 
ed  with  the  same  false  principles,  when  they  saw  the  manner 
of  his  death,  which  is  said  to  have  happened  by  lightning,  t 

*  None  are  so  superstitious  in  distress  as  those  who,  in  their  prosperity, 
have  laughed  at  religion.  The  famous  Canon  Vossius  was  no  less  remarka¬ 
ble  for  the  greatness  of  his  fears,  than  he  was  for  the  littleness  of  his  faith. 

j*  The  palace  of  Tullus  Hostilius  was  burnt  down  by  lightning:  and  he, 
with  his  wife  and  children,  perished  in  the  flames.  Though  some  historians 
say,  that  Ancus  Marcius,  who  was  the  grandson  of  Numa,  expecting  to  suc¬ 
ceed.  to  the  crown,  took  the  opportunity  of  the  storm  to  assassinate  the  king. 


NUMA  AND  LYCURGUS 


COMPARED. 


Haying  gone  through  the  lives  of  Numa  and  Lycurgus,  we 
must  now  endeavour  (though  it  is  no  easy  matter)  to  contrast 
their  actions.  The  resemblances  between  them,  however,  are 
obvious  enough;  their  wisdom,  for  instance,  their  piety,  their 
talents  for  government,  the  instruction  of  their  people,  and 
their  deriving  their  laws  from  a  divine  source.  But  the  chief 
of  their  peculiar  distinctions,  was  Numa’s  accepting  a  crown, 
and  Lycurgus’s  relinquishing  one.  The  former  received  a 
kingdom  without  seeking  it,  the  latter  resigned  one  when  he 
had  it  in  possession.  Numa  advanced  to  sovereign  power, 
when  a  private  person  and  a  stranger;  Lycurgus  reduced  him¬ 
self  from  a  king  to  a  private  person.  It  was  an  honour  to  the 
one  to  attain  to  royal  dignity  by  his  justice;  and  it  was  an  ho¬ 
nour  to  the  other  to  prefer  justice  to  that  dignity.  Virtue 
rendered  the  one  so  respectable  as  to  deserve  a  throne,  and 
the  other  so  great  as  to  be  above  it. 

The  second  observation  is,  that  both  managed  their  respec¬ 
tive  governments,  as  musicians  do  the  lyre,  each  in  a  different 
manner.  Lycurgus  wound  up  the  strings  of  Sparta,  which  he 
found  relaxed  with  luxury,  to  a  stronger  tone:  Numa  soften¬ 
ed  the  high  and  harsh  tone  of  Rome.  The  former  had  the 
more  difficult  task;  for  it  was  not  their  swords  and  breast¬ 
plates,  which  he  persuaded  his  citizens  to  lay  aside,  but  their 
gold  and  silver,  their  sumptuous  beds  and  tables;  what  he 
taught  them  was,  not  to  devote  their  time  to  feasts  and  sa¬ 
crifices,  after  quitting  the  rugged  paths  of  war,  but  to  leave 
entertainments  and  the  pleasures  of  wine,  for  the  laborious 
exercises  of  arms  and  the  wrestling  ring.  Numa  effected  his 
purposes  in  a  friendly  way,  by  the  regard  and  veneration  the 
people  had  for  his  person;  Lycurgus  had  to  struggle  with  con¬ 
flicts  and  dangers,  before  he  could  establish  his  laws.  Tin 
genius  of  Numa  was  more  mild  and  gentle,  softening  and  at¬ 
tempering  the  fiery  dispositions  of  his  people  to  justice  and 
peace.  If  we  be  obliged  to  admit  the  sanguinary  and  unjust 
treatment  of  the  Helotes,  as  apart  of  the  politics  of  Lycurgus, 
we  must  allow  Numa  to  have  been  far  the  more  humane  and 
VfL.  i. - Z 


162 


NUMA  AND  LYCURGUS  COMPARED. 


equitable  lawgiver,  who  permitted  absolute  slaves  to  taste  o i 
the  honour  of  freemen,  and  in  the  Saturnalia  to  be  entertained 
along  with  their  masters.  *  F or  this  also  they  tell  us  was  one  of 
Numa’s  institutions,  that  persons  in  a  state  of  servitude  should 
be  admitted,  at  least  once  a  year,  to  the  liberal  enjoyment  of 
those  fruits  which  they  had  helped  to  raise.  Some,  however, 
pretend  to  find  in  this  custom  the  vestiges  of  the  equality 
which  subsisted  in  the  times  of  Saturn,  when  there  was  nei¬ 
ther  servant  nor  master,  but  all  were  upon  the  same  footing, 
and,  as  it  were,  of  one  family. 

Both  appear  to  have  been  equally  studious  to  lead  their 
people  to  temperance  and  sobriety.  As  to  the  other  virtues, 
the  one  was  more  attached  to  fortitude,  and  the  other  to  jus¬ 
tice;  though  possibly  the  different  nature  and  quality  of  their 
respective  governments  required  a  different  process.  For  it 
was  not  through  want  of  courage,  but  to  guard  against  injus¬ 
tice,  that  Numa  restrained  his  subjects  from  war;  nor  did  Ly- 
curgus  endeavour  to  infuse  a  martial  spirit  into  his  people, 
with  a  view  to  encourage  them  to  injure  others,  but  to  guard 
them  against  being  injured  by  invasions.  As  each  had  the 
uxuriances  of  his  citizens  to  prune,  and  their  deficiencies  to 
fill  up,  they  must  necessarily  make  very  considerable  altera¬ 
tions. 

Numa’s  distribution  of  the  people  was  indulgent  and  agreea¬ 
ble  to  the  commonalty,  as  with  him  a  various  and  mixed  mass 
of  goldsmiths,  musicians,  shoemakers,  and  other  trades,  com- 

Eosed  the  body  of  the  city.  But  Lycurgus  inclined  to  the  no- 
ility  in  modelling  his  state,  and  he  proceeded  in  a  severe 
and  unpopular  manner;  putting  all  mechanic  arts  in  the  hands 
of  slaves  and  strangers,  while  the  citizens  were  only  taught 
how  to  manage  the  spear  and  shield.  They  were  only  artists 
in  war,  and  servants  of  Mars,  neither  knowing  nor  desiring  to 
know  any  thing  but  howto  obey,  command,  and  conquer  their 
enemies.  That  the  freemen  might  be  entirely  and  once  for  all 
free,  he  would  not  suffer  them  to  give  any  attention  to  their 
circumstances,  but  that  the  whole  business  was  to  be  left  to 
the  slaves  and  Helotes,  in  the  same  manner  as  the  dressing  of 
their  meat.  Numa  made  no  such  distinction  as  this:  he  only 

*  The  Saturnalia  was  a  feast  celebrated  on  the  14th  of  the  kalends  of 
January.  Beside  the  sacrifices  in  honour  of  Saturn,  who,  upon  his  retiring* 
into  Italy,  introduced  there  the  happiness  of  the  golden  age,  sen  ants  were 
at  this  time  indulged  in  mirth  and  freedom,  in  memory  of  the  equaity  which 
prevailed  in  that  age;  presents  were  sent  from  one  friend  to  another;  and  no 
war  was  to  be  proclaimed,  nor  offender  executed.  It  is  uncertain  Jvhen  this 
festival  was  instituted.  Macrobius  says,  it  was  celebrated  in  Italy  lc  ng  before 
the  building  of  Rome;  and  probably  he  is  right,  for  the  Greeks  kept  the  same 
feast  under  the  name  of  Chronia. — Macrob.  Saturn.  1.  i.  c.  7 


NUMA  AND  LYCURGUS  COMPARED. 


163 


put  a  stop  to  the  gain  of  rapine.  Not  solicitous  to  prevent 
an  inequality  of  substance,  he  forbade  no  other  means  of  in¬ 
creasing  the  fortunes  of  his  subjects,  nor  their  rising  to  the 
greatest  opulence;  neither  did  he  guard  against  poverty, 
which  at  the  same  time  made  its  way  into,  and  spread  in  the 
city.  While  there  was  no  great  disparity  in  the  possessions 
of  his  citizens,  but  all  were  moderately  provided,  he  should 
at  first  have  combated  the  desire  of  gain;  and,  like  Lycurgus, 
have  watched  against  its  inconveniences;  for  those  were  by 
no  means  inconsiderable,  but  such  as  give  birth  to  the  many 
and  great  troubles  that  happened  in  the  Roman  state. 

As  to  an  equal  division  of  lands,  neither  was  Lycurgus  to 
blame  for  making  it,  nor  Numa  for  not  making  it.  The 
equality  which  it  caused,  afforded  the  former  a  firm  foundation 
for  his  government;  and  the  latter  finding  a  division  already 
made,  and  probably  as  yet  subsisting  entire,  had  no  occasion 
to  make  a  new  one. 

With  respect  to  the  community  of  wives  and  children,  each 
took  a  politic  method  to  banish  jealousy.  A  Roman  husband, 
when  he  had  a  sufficient  number  of  children,  and  was  applied 
to  by  one  that  had  none,  might  give  up  his  wife  to  him,*  and 
was  at  liberty  both  to  divorce  her  and  to  take  her  again.  But 
the  Lacedaemonian,  while  his  wife  remained  in  his  house,  and 
the  marriage  subsisted  in  its  original  force,  allowed  his  friend, 
who  desired  to  have  children  by  her,  the  use  of  his  bed;  and 
(as  we  have  already  observed)  many  husbands  invited  to  their 
houses  such  men  as  were  likely  to  give  them  healthy  and  well- 
made  children.  The  difference  between  the  two  customs  is 
this:  that  the  Lacedaemonians  appeared  very  easy  and  uncon¬ 
cerned  about  an  affair  that  in  other  places  causes  so  much  dis 
turbance,  and  consumes  men’s  hearts  with  jealousy  and  sor¬ 
row;  whilst  among  the  Romans  there  was  a  modesty,  which 
veiled  the  matter  with  a  new  contract,  and  seemed  to  declare 
that  a  community  in  wedlock  is  intolerable. 

Yet  farther,  Numa’s  strictness  as  to  virgins,  tended  to  form 
them  to  that  modesty  which  is  the  ornament  of  their  sex;  but 
the  great  liberty  which  Lycurgus  gave  them,  brought  upon 
them  the  censure  of  the  poets,  particularly  Ibycus;  for  they 
call  them  Phxnomerides ,  and  Andromaneis .  Euripides  detribes 
them  in  this  manner: — 

These  quit  their  homes,  ambitious  to  display, 

Amidst  the  youths,  their  vigour  in  the  race. 

Or  feats  of  wrestling,  whilst  their  airy  robe 

Flies  back,  and  leaves  their  limbs  uncovered.  * 


*  It  does  not  appear  that  Numa  gave  any  sanction  to  this  liberty.  Plutarch 
himself  says,  a  little  below,  that  no  divorce  was  known  in  Rome  till  long  after. 


164 


NUMA  AND  LYCURGUS  COMPARED. 


The  skirts  of  the  habit  which  the  virgins  wore,  were  not  sew 
ed  to  the  bottom,  but  opened  at  the  sides  as  they  walked,  and 
discovered  the  thigh;  as  Sophocles  very  plainly  writes:— 

Still  in  the  light  dress  struts  the  vain  Hermione, 

Whose  opening  folds  display  the  naked  thigh. 

Consequently,  their  behaviour  is  said  to  have  been  too  bold 
and  too  masculine,  in  particular  to  their  husbands;  for  they  con 
sidered  themselves  as  absolute  mistresses  in  their  houses;  nay, 
they  wanted  a  share  in  affairs  of  state,  and  delivered  their  sen* 
timents  with  great  freedom  concerning  the  most  weighty  mat¬ 
ters.  But  Numa,  though  he  preserved  entire  to  the  matron? 
all  the  honour  and  respect  that  were  paid  them  by  their  hus 
bands  in  the  time  of  Romulus,  when  they  endeavoured  bj 
kindness  to  compensate  for  the  rape,  yet  he  obliged  them  t( 
behave  with  great  reserve,  and  to  lay  aside  all  impertinent  c  j 
riosity.  He  taught  them  to  be  sober,  and  accustomed  them  to 
silence,  entirely  to  abstain  from  wine,*  and  not  to  speak  even 
of  the  most  necessary  affairs  except  in  the  presence  of  their 
husbands.  When  a  woman  once  appeared  in  the  forum  to 
plead  her  own  cause,  it  is  reported  that  the  senate  ordered  the 
oracle  to  be  consulted,  what  this  strange  event  portended  to 
the  city.t  Nay,  what  is  recorded  of  a  few  infamous  women, 
is  a  proof  of  the  obedience  and  meekness  of  the  Roman  ma¬ 
trons  in  general;  for  as  our  historians  give  us  accounts  of  those 
who  first  carried  war  into  the  bowels  of  their  country,  or 
against  their  brothers,  or  were  first  guilty  of  parricide  ;  so  the 
Romans  relate,  that  Spurius  Carvilius  was  the  first  among  them 
that  divorced  his  wife,  when  no  such  thing  had  happened  be¬ 
fore  for  two  hundred  and  thirty  years  from  the  building  of 
Rome;J  and  that  Thalsea,  the  wife  of  Pinarius,  was  the  first 
that  quarrelled,  having  a  dispute  with  her  mother-in-law  Ge- 

Sania,  in  the  reign  of  Tarquin  the  proud.  So  well  framed  for 
le  preserving  of  decency  and  a  propriety  of  behaviour,  were 
this  lawgiver’s  regulations  with  respect  to  marriage. 

*  Romulus  made  the  drinking  of  wine,  as  well  as  adultery,  a  capital  crime 
in  women.  For.  he  said,  adultery  opens  the  door  to  all  sorts  of  crimes,  and 
wine  opens  the  door  to  adultery.  The  severity  of  the  Iav7  was  softened  in 
the  succeeding  ages;  the  women  who  were  overtaken  in  liquor,  were  not 
condemned  to  die,  but  to  lose  their  dowers. 

j*  What  then  appeared  so  strange  became  afterwards  common  erough:  in¬ 
somuch,  that  every  troublesome  woman  of  that  kind  was  called  Afrania, 
from  a  senator's  wife  of  that  name,  who  busied  herself  much  in  courts  of 
justice.  The  eloquent  Hortensia,  daughter  to  the  orator  Hortensius,  plead¬ 
ed  with  such  success  for  the  women,  when  the  triumvirs  had  laid  a  fine  up 
on  them,  that  she  got  a  considerable  part  of  it  remitted. 
i  It  was  in  the  5?0th  year  of  Rome  that  this  happened. 


NUMA  AND  LYCURGUS  COMPARED. 


165 


Agreeable  t )  the  education  of  virgins  in  Sparta,  were  the 
directions  of  Lycurgus  as  to  the  time  of  their  being  married. 
For  he  ordered  them  to  be  married  when  both  their  age  and 
wishes  led  them  to  it;  that  the  company  of  a  husband,  which 
nature  now  required,  might  be  the  foundation  of  kindness  and 
love,  and  not  of  fear  and  hatred,  which  would  be  the  conse¬ 
quence  when  nature  was  forced;  and  that  their  bodies  might 
have  strength  to  bear  the  troubles  of  breeding  and  the  pangs 
of  child-birth;  the  propagation  of  children  being  looked  upon 
as  the  only  end  of  marriage.  But  the  Romans  married  their 
daughters  at  the  age  of  twelve  years,  or  under;  that  both  their 
bodies  and  manners  might  come  pure  and  untainted  into  the 
management  of  their  husbands.  It  appears,  then,  that  the  for¬ 
mer  institution  more  naturally  tended  to  the  procreation  of 
children,  and  the  latter  to  the  forming  of  the  manners  for  the 
matrimonial  union. 

However,  in  the  education  of  the  boys,  in  regulating  their 
classes,  and  laying  down  the  whole  method  of  their  exercises, 
their  diversions,  and  their  eating  at  a  common  table,  Lycurgus 
stands  distinguished,  and  leaves  Numa  only  upon  a  level  with 
ordinary  lawgivers.  For  Numa  left  it  to  the  option  or  con¬ 
venience  of  parents,  to  bring  up  their  sons  to  agriculture,  to 
ship-building,  to  the  business  of  a  brazier,  or  the  art  of  a  mu¬ 
sician;  as  if  it  were  not  necessary  for  one  design  to  run  through 
the  education  of  them  all,  and  for  each  individual  to  have  the 
same  bias  given  him;  but  as  if  they  were  all  like  passengers 
in  a  ship,  who  coming  each  from  a  different  employment,  and 
with  a  different  intent,  stand  upon  their  common  defence  in 
time  of  danger,  merely  out  of  fear  for  themselves  or  their  pro¬ 
perty,  and  on  other  occasions  are  attentive  only  to  their  pri¬ 
vate  ends.  In  such  a  case,  common  legislators  would  have 
been  excusable,  who  might  have  failed  through  ignorance  or 
want  of  power.  But  should  not  so  wise  a  man  as  Numa,  who 
took  upon  him  the  government  of  a  state  so  lately  formed,  and 
not  likely  to  make  the  least  opposition  to  any  thing  he  pro¬ 
posed,  have  considered  it  as  his  first  care,  to  give  the  children 
such  a  bent  of  education,  and  the  youth  such  a  mode  of  exer¬ 
cise  as  would  prevent  any  great  difference  or  confusion  in 
their  manners,  that  so  they  might  be  formed  from  their  in¬ 
fancy,  and  persuaded  to  walk  together,  in  the  same  paths  of 
virtue?  Lycurgus  found  the  utility  of  this  in  several  respects, 
and  particularly  in  securing  the  continuance  of  his  laws.  For 
the  oath  the  Spartans  had  taken,  would  have  availed  but  little, 
if  the  youth  had  not  been  already  tinctured  with  his  discipline, 
jid  trained  to  a  zeal  for  his  establishment.  Nay,  so  strong 
and  deep  was  the  tincture,  that  the  principal  laws  which  he 
enacted,  continued  in  force  for  more  than  five  hundred  years 

10 


166  NUMA  AND  LYCURGUS  COMPARED. 

But  the  primary  view  of  Numa’s  government,  which  was  to 
settle  the  Romans  in  lasting  peace  and  tranquillity,  immediate¬ 
ly  vanished  with  him;  and,  after  his  death,  the  temple  of  Janus, 
which  he  had  kept  shut  (as  if  he  had  really  held  war  in  prison 
and  subjection),  was  set  wide  open,  and  Italy  was  filled  with 
blood. *  The  beautiful  pile  of  justice  which  he  had  reared, 
presently  fell  to  the  ground,  being  without  the  cement  of  edu¬ 
cation. 

You  will  say,  then,  was  not  Rome  bettered  by  her  wars? 
A  question  this  which  wants  a  long  answer,  to  satisfy  such  as 
place  the  happiness  of  a  state  in  riches,  luxury,  and  an  extent 
of  dominion,  rather  than  in  security,  equity,  temperance,  and 
content.  It  may  seem,  however,  to  afford  an  argument  in 
favour  of  Lycurgus,  that  the  Romans,  upon  quitting  the  dis¬ 
cipline  of  Numa,  soon  arrived  at  a  much  higher  degree  of 
power;  whereas  the  Lacedaemonians,  as  soon  as  they  departed 
from  the  institutions  of  Lycurgus,  from  being  the  most  re¬ 
spectable  people  of  Greece,  became  the  meanest,  and  were  in 
dagger  of  being  absolutely  destroyed.  On  the  other  hand,  it 
must  be  acknowledged  something  truly  great  and  divine  in 
Numa,  to  be  invited  from  another  country  to  the  throne;  to 
make  so  many  alterations  by  means  of  persuasions;  to  reign 
undisturbed  over  a  city  not  yet  united  in  itself,  without  the 
use  of  an  armed  force  (which  Lycurgus  was  obliged  to  have 
recourse  to,  when  he  availed  himself  of  the  aid  of  the  nobility 
against  the  commons),  and  by  his  wisdom  and  justice  alone, 
to  conciliate  and  combine  all  his  subjects  in  peace. 

•  In  the  wars  with  the  Fide  nates,  the  Albans,  and  the  lAtin*. 


THE 


LIFE  OF  SOLON.* 


Didymus,  the  grammarian,  in  Ins  answer  to  Aselepiades, 
concerning  the  laws  of  Solon,  cites  the  testimony  of  one  Phi- 
locles,  by  which  he  would  prove  Solon  the  son  of  Euphorion, 
contrary  to  the  opinion  of  others  that  have  wrote  of  him.  .  For 
they  all  with  one  voice  declare  that  Execestides  was  his  fa¬ 
ther;  a  man  of  moderate  fortune  and  power,  but  of  the  noblest 
family  in  Athens,  being  descended  from  Codrus.  His  mother, 
according  to  Peraclides  of  Pontus,  was  cousin-german  to  the 
mother  of  Pisistratus.  This  tie  of  friendship  at  first  united 
Solon  and  Pisistratus  in  a  very  intimate  friendship,  which  was 
drawn  closer,  (if  we  may  believe  some  writers)  by  the  regard 
which  the  former  had  for  the  beauty  and  excellent  qualities  of 
the  latter.!  Hence  we  may  believe  it  was,  that  when  they 
differed  afterwards  about  matters  of  state,  this  dissension 
broke  not  out  into  any  harsh  or  ungenerous  treatment  of  each 
other;  but  their  first  union  kept  some  hold  of  their  hearts, 
some  sparks  of  the  flame  still  remained,  and  the  tenderness  of 
former  friendship  was  not  quite  forgotten.  *  * 

*  *  *  ***** 
******** 
Solon’s  father  having  hurt  his  fortune,  J  as  Hermippus  tells 

*  Solon  flourished  about  the  year  before  Christ  597. 

f  Pisistratus  was  remarkably  courteous,  affable,  and  liberal.  He  had  al¬ 
ways  two  or  three  slaves  near  him  with  bags  of  silver  coin;  when  he  saw  any 
man  look  sickly,  or  heard  that  any  died  insolvent,  he  relieved  the  one,  and 
buried  the  others  at  his  own  expense.  If  he  perceived  people  melancholy, 
he  inquired  the  ca  ise,  and  if  he  found  it  was  poverty,  he  furnished  them  with 
what  might  enable  them  to  get  bread,  but  not  to  live  idly.  Nay,  he  left  even 
his  gardens  and  orchards  open,  and  the  fruit  free  to  the  citizens.  His  looks 
were  easy  and  sedate,  his  language  soft  and  modest.  In  short,  if  his  virtues 
had  been  genuine,  and  not  dissembled,  with  a  view  to  the  tyranny  of  Athens, 
he  would  (as  Solon  told  him)  have  been  the  best  citizen  in  it. 

t  Aristotle  reckons  Solon  himself  among  the  inferior  citizens,  and  quotes 
bis  own  works  to  prove  it.  The  truth  is,  that  Solon  was  never  rich,  it  mav 
be,  because  he  was  always  honest.  In  his  youth,  he  was  mightily  addicted  to 
poetry.  And  Plato  (in  Timaeo  )  says,  that  if  he  had  finished  all  his  poems, 
and  particularly  the  History  of  tne  Atlantic  Island,  which  he  brought  out  of 
Egypt,  and  had  taken  time  to  revise  and  correct  them,  as  others  did,  neither 
Homer,  Hesiod,  nor  any  other  ancient  poet,  would  have  been  more  famous. 


168 


SOLON. 


us,  by  indulging  bis  great  and  munificent  spirit,  though  the 
son  might  have  been  supported  by  his  friends,  yet  as  he  was 
of  a  family  that  had  long  been  assisting  to  others,  he  was 
ashamed  to  accept  of  assistance  himself;  and,  therefore,  in  his 
younger  years,  applied  himself  to  merchandise.  Some,  how¬ 
ever,  say  that  he  travelled  rather  to  gratify  his  curiosity,  and 
extend  his  knowledge,  than  to  raise  an  estate.  For  he  pro¬ 
fessed  his  love  of  wisdom,  and  when  far  advanced  in  years, 
made  this  declaration, — “I  grow  old  in  the  pursuit  of  learn < 
ing.”  He  was  not  too  much  attached  to  wealth,  as  we  may 
gather  from  the  following  verses: — 

The  man  that  boasts  of  golden  stores. 

Of  grain  that  loads  his  bending  floors. 

Of  fields  with  fresh’ning  herbage  green. 

Where  bounding  steeds  and  herds  are  seen, 

I  call  not  happier  than  the  swain, 

Whose  limbs  are  sound,  whose  food  is  plain, 

Whose  joys  a  blooming  wife  endears. 

Whose  hours  a  smiling  offspring  cheers.* 

Yet,  in  another  place,  he  says— 

The  flow  of  riches,  though  desir’d. 

Life’s  real  goods,  if  well  acquir’d, 

Unjustly  let  me  never  gain, 

Lest  vengeance  follow  in  their  train. 

indeed,  a  good  man,  a  valuable  member  of  society,  should 
neither  set  his  heart  upon  superfluities,  nor  reject  the  use  of 
what  is  necessary  and  convenient.  And,  in  those  times,  as 
Hesiodt  informs  us,  no  business  was  looked  upon  as  a  dispar¬ 
agement,  nor  did  any  trade  cause  a  disadvantageous  distinction. 
The  profession  of  merchandise  was  honourable,  as  it  brought 
home  the  produce  of  barbarous  countries,  engaged  the  friend¬ 
ship  of  kings,  and  opened  a  wide  field  of  knowledge  and  ex¬ 
perience.  Nay,  some  merchants  have  been  founders  of  great 
cities;  Protus,  for  instance,  that  built  Marseilles,  for  whom  the 
Gauls  about  the  Rhone  had  the  highest  esteem.  Thales  also, 
and  Hippocrates  the  mathematician,  are  said  to  have  had  their 


Jt  is  evident,  both  from  the  life  and  writings  of  this  great  man,  that  he  v/as 
a  person  not  only  of  exalted  virtue,  but  of  a  pleasant  and  agreeable  temper. 
He  considered  men  as  men :  and  keeping  both  their  capacity  for  virtue,  and 
their  proneness  to  evil,  in  his  view,  he  adapted  his  laws  so  as  to  strengthen 
and  support  the  one,  and  to  check  and  keep  under  the  other.  His  institu¬ 
tions  are  as  remarkable  for  their  sweetness  and  practicability,  as  those  of 
Iycurgus  are  for  harshness  and  forcing  human  nature. 

*  This  passage  of  Solon’s  and  another  below,  are  now  found  among  th< 
sentences  of  Theognis. 

*  Lib.  Ob.  et  Di.  ver.  309. 


SOLON.  Ib9 

share  in  commerce;  and  the  oil  that  Plato  disposed  of  in 
Egypt,*  defrayed  the  expense  of  his  travels. 

If  Solon  was  too  expensive  and  luxurious  in  his  way  of  liw 
ing,  and  indulged  his  poetical  vein  in  his  description  of  plea¬ 
sure  too  freely  for  a  philosopher,  it  is  imputed  to  his  mercan¬ 
tile  life;  for,  as  he  passed  through  many  and  great  Hangers, 
he  might  surely  compensate  them  with  a  little  relaxation  and 
enjoyment.  But  that  he  placed  himself  rather  in  the  class  of 
the  poor  than  the  rich,  is  evident  from  these  lines: — 

For  vice,  though  Plenty  fills  her  horn. 

And  virtue  sinks  in  want  and  scorn; 

Yet  never,  sure,  shall  Solon  change 
His  truth  for  wealth’s  most  easy  range ! 

Since  virtue  lives,  and  truth  shall  stand. 

While  wealth  eludes  the  grasping  hand. 

Hu  seems  to  have  made  use  of  his  poetical  talent  at  first,  not 
for  any  serious  purpose,  but  only  for  amusement,  and  to  fill 
up  his  hours  of  leisure;  but  afterwards  he  inserted  moral  sen¬ 
tences,  and  interwove  many  political  transactions  in  his  poems, 
not  for  the  sake  of  recording  or  remembering  them,  but  some¬ 
times  by  way  of  apology  for  his  own  administration,  and 
sometimes  to  exhort,  to  advise,  or  to  censure  the  citizens  of 
Athens.  Some  are  of  opinion,  that  he  attempted  to  put  his 
laws  too  in  verse;  and  they  give  us  this  beginning: — 

Supreme  of  gods,  whose  power  we  first  address, 

This  plan  to  honour  and  these  laws  to  bless. 

Like  most  of  the  sages  of  those  times,  he  cultivated  chiefly 
that  part  of  moral  philosophy,  which  treats  of  civil  obliga¬ 
tions.  His  physics  were  of  a  very  simple  and  ancient  cast,  as 
appears  from  the  following  lines: — 

From  cloudy  vapours  falls  the  treasur’d  snow, 

And  the  fierce  hail;  from  lightning’s  rapid  blaze 
Springs  the  loud  thunder — winds  disturb  the  deep, 

Than  whose  unruffled  breast,  no  smoother  scene 
In  all  the  works  of  nature! — 

Upon  the  whole,  Thales  seems  to  have  been  the  only  philoso¬ 
pher  who  then  carried  his  speculations  beyond  things  in  com¬ 
mon  use,  while  the  rest  of  the  wise  men  maintained  their  cha 
racter  by  rules  for  social  life. 

They  are  reported  to  have  met  at  Delphi,  and  afterwards  a 
Corinth,  upon  the  invitation  of  Periander,  who  made  provi- 

*  It  was  usual  to  trade  into  Egypt  with  the  oil  of  Greece  and  Judea.  It 
Is  said  in  the  prophet  Hosea,  (c.  xii.  v.  1,)  Ephraim  carrieth  oil  into  Egypt 

V" ol  i. — — 2  A  1(1* 


170 


SOLON. 


sion  for  their  entertainment.  But  what  contributed  most  to 
their  honour,  was  their  sending  the  tripod  from  one  to  another, 
with  an  ambition  to  outvie  each  other  in  modesty.  The  story 
is  this: — When  some  Coans  were  drawing  a  net,  certain  stran 
gers  from  Miletus  brought  the  draught  unseen.  It  proved  to  be 
a  golden  tripod,  which  Helen,  as  she  sailed  from  Troy,  is  said 
to"  have  thrown  in  there,  in  compliance  with  an  ancient  oracle. 
A  dispute  arising  at  first  between  the  strangers  and  the  fisher- 
men  about  the  tripod,  and  afterwards  extending  itself  to  the 
states  to  which  they  belonged,  so  as  almost  to  engage  them 
in  hostilities,  the  priestess  of  Apollo  took  up  the  matter,  by 
ordering,  that  the  wisest  man  they  could  find  should  have  the 
tripod.  And,  first,  it  was  sent  to  Thales  at  Miletus,  the  Coans 
voluntarily  presenting  that  to  one  of  the  Milesians,  for  which 
they  would  have  gone  to  war  with  them  all.  Thales  declared, 
that  Bias  was  a  wjser  man  than  he,  so  it  was  brought  to  him. 
He  sent  it  to  another,  as  wiser  still.  After  making  a  farther 
circuit,  it  came  to  Thales  the  second  time.  And,  at  last,  it 
was  carried  from  Miletus  to  Thebes,  and  dedicated  to  the  Is- 
menian  Apollo.  Theophrastus  relates,  that  the  tripod  was 
first  sent  to  Bias  at  Priene;  that  Bias  sent  it  back  again  to 
Thales  at  Miletus;  that  so  having  passed  through  the  hands  of 
the  seven,  it  came  round  to  Bias  again,  and  at  last  was  sent  to 
the  temple  of  Apollo  at  Delphi.  This  is  the  most  current  ac¬ 
count;  yet  some  say  the  present  was  not  a  tripod,  but  a  bowl 
sent  by  Croesus;  and  others,  that  it  was  a  cup  which  one  Ba- 
thycles  had  left  for  that  purpose. 

We  have  a  particular  account  of  a  conversation  which  So¬ 
lon  had  with  Anacharsis,*  and  of  another  he  had  with  Thales. 
Anacharsis  went  to  Solon’s  house  at  Athens,  knocked  at  the 
door,  and  said, — “  He  was  a  stranger,  who  desired  to  enter 
into  engagements  of  friendship  and  mutual  hospitality  with 
him.”  Solon  answered, — “Friendships  are  best  formed  at 
home.”  “Then  do  you,”  said  Anacharsis,  “who  are  at  home, 
make  me  your  friend,  and  receive  me  into  your  house.” 
Struck  with  the  quickness  of  his  repartee,  Solon  gave  him  a 

•  The  Scythians  long  before  the  days  of  Solon,  had  been  celebrated  for 
theiff  frugality,  their  temperance,  and  justice.  Anacharsis  was  one  of  these 
8cythians,  and  a  prince  of  the  blood.  He  went  to  Athens  about  the  forty- 
seventh  Olympiad,  that  is  590  years  before  Christ.  His  good  sense,  his 
knowledge,  and  great  experience,  made  him  pass  for  one  of  the  seven  wise 
men.  But  tlje  greatest  and  wisest  men  have  their  inconsistencies;  for  such 
it  certainly  was,  for  Anacharsis  to  carry  the  Grecian  worship,  the  rites  of 
Cybele,  into  Scythia,  contraiy  to  the  laws  of  his  country.  Though  he  per* 
formed  those  rites  privately  in  a  woody  part  of  the  country,  a  Scythian  hap 
pened  to  see  him,  and  acquainted  the  king  with  it,  who  came  immediately 
and  sh  ot  him  with  an  arrow  upon  the  spot. — Herodot.  1.  iv.  c.  76. 


SOLON. 


171 


kind  welcome,  and  kept  him  some  time  with  him,  being  then 
employed  in  public  affairs  and  in  modelling  his  laws.  When 
Anacharsis  knew  what  Solon  was  about,  he  laughed  at  his  un¬ 
dertaking,  and  at  the  absurdity  of  imagining  he  could  restrain 
the  avarice  and  injustice  of  the  citizens  by  written  laws,  which 
in  all  respects  resembled  spiders’  webs,  and  would,  like  them, 
only  entangle,  and  hold  the  poor  and  weak,  while  the  rich  and 
powerful  easily  broke  through  them.  To  this  Solon  replied, — 
“Men  keep  their  agreements,  when  it  is  an  advantage  to  both 
parties  not  to  break  them;  and  he  would  so  frame  his  laws,  as 
to  make  it  evident  to  the  Athenians,  that  it  would  be  more  for 
their  interest  to  observe  them  than  to  transgress  them.”  The 
event,  however,  showed,  that  Anacharsis  was  nearer  the  truth 
in  his  conjecture,  than  Solon  was  in  his  hope.  Anacharsis 
having  seen  an  assembly  of  the  people  at  Athens,  said, — “  He 
was  surprised  at  this,  that  in  Greece  wise  men  pleaded  causes, 
and  fools  determined  them.” 

When  Solon  was  entertained  by  Thales  at  Miletus,  he  ex¬ 
pressed  some  wonder  that  “  he  did  not  marry  and  raise  a  fa¬ 
mily.”  To  this  Thales  gave  no  immediate  answer;  but  some 
days  after  he  instructed  a  stranger  to  say, — “That  he  came 
from  Athens  ten  days  before.”  Solon  inquiring,  “What  news 
there  was  at  Athens?”  the  man,  according  to  his  instructions, 
said, — “  None,  except  the  funeral  of  a  young  man,  which  was 
attended  by  the  whole  city;  for  he  was  the  son  (as  they  told 
me)  of  a  person  of  great  honour,  and  of  the  highest  reputation 
for  virtue,  who  was  then  abroad  upon  his  travels.”  “  What  a 
miserable  man  is  he,”  said  Solon;  “  but  what  was  his  name?” 
“  I  have  heard  his  name,”  answered  the  stranger,  “  but  do  not 
recollect  it,  all  I  remember  is,  that  there  was  much  talk  of 
his  wisdom  and  justice.”  Solon,  whose  apprehensions  in¬ 
creased  with  every  reply,  was  now  much  disconcerted,  and 
mentioned  his  own  name,  asking, — “  Whether  it  was  not  So¬ 
lon’s  son  that  was  dead?”  The  stranger  answering  in  the  af¬ 
firmative,  be  began  to  beat  his  head,  and  to  do  and  say  such 
things  as  are  usual  to  men  in  a  transport  of  grief.  *  Then 
Thales,  taking  him  by  the  hand,  said,  with  a  smile, — “  These 
things  which  strike  down  so  firm  a  man  as  Solon,  kept  me 
from  marriage  and  from  having  children;  but  take  courage, 
my  good  friend,  for  not  a  word  of  what  has  been  told  you  is 
true.”  Hermippus  says,  he  took  this  story  from  Pataecus, 
who  used  to  boast  he  had  the  soul  of  iEsop. 

But  after  all,  to  neglect  the  procuring  of  what  is  necessary 


*  Whether  on  this  occasion,  or  on  the  real  loss  of  a  son,  is  uncertain,  Scv 
ion,  being*  desired  not  to  weep,  since  weeping*  would  avail  nothing*;  he  an¬ 
gered  with  much  humanity  and  g*ood  sense, — “And  for  this  cause  I  weep.” 


172 


SOLON. 


or  convenient  in  life,  for  fear  of  losing  it,  would  be  actir.g  i 
very  mean  and  absurd  part.  By  the  same  rule  a  man  might 
refuse  the  enjoyment  of  riches,  or  honour,  or  wisdom,  because 
it  is  possible  for  him  to  be  deprived  of  them.  Even  the  ex¬ 
cellent  qualities  of  the  mind,  the  most  valuable  and  pleasing 
possession  in  the  world,  we  see  destroyed  by  poisonous  drugs, 
or  by  the  violence  of  some  disease.  Nay,  Thales  himself  could 
not  be  secure  from  fears,  by  living  single,  unless  he  would 
renounce  all  interest  in  his  friends,  his  relations,  and  his  coun¬ 
try.  Instead  of  that,  however,  he  is  said  to  have  adopted  his 
sister’s  son,  named  Cybisthus.  Indeed  the  soul  has  not  only 
a  principle  of  sense,  of  understanding,  of  memory,  but  of  love; 
and  when  it  has  nothing  at  home  to  fix  its  affection  upon,  it 
unites  itself,  and  cleaves  to  something  abroad.  Strangers,  or 
persons  of  spurious  birth,  often  insinuate  themselves  into  such 
a  man’s  heart,  as  into  a  house  or  land  that  has  no  lawful  heirs, 
and  together  with  love,  bring  a  train  of  cares  and  apprehen¬ 
sions  for  them.  It  is  not  uncommon  to  hear  persons  of  a  mo¬ 
rose  temper,  who  talk  against  marriage  and  a  family,  uttering 
the  most  abject  complaints  when  a  cliild  which  they  have  had 
by  a  slave  or  a  concubine  happens  to  sicken  or  die.  Nay, 
some  have  expressed  a  very  great  regret  upon  the  death  of 
dogs  and  horses;  whilst  others  have  borne  the  loss  of  valuable 
children  without  any  affliction,  or  at  least  without  any  indecent 
sorrow,  and  have  passed  the  rest  of  their  days  with  calmness 
and  composure.  It  is  certainly  weakness,  not  affection,  which 
brings  infinite  troubles  and  fears  upon  men,  who  are  not  forti¬ 
fied  by  reason  against  the  power  of  fortune,  who  have  no  en¬ 
joyment  of  a  present  good  because  of  their  apprehensions,  and 
the  real  anguish  they  find  in  considering  that  in  time  they 
may  be  deprived  of  it.  No  man,  surely,  should  take  refuge 
in  poverty,  to  guard  against  the  loss  of  an  estate;  nor  remain 
in  the  unsocial  state  of  celibacy,  that  he  may  have  neither 
friends  nor  children  to  lose;  he  should  be  armed  by  reason 
against  all  events.  But  perhaps  we  have  been  too  diffuse  in 
these  sentiments. 

When  the  Athenians,  tired  out  with  a  long  and  troublesome 
war  against  the  Megarensians  for  the  isle  of  Salamis,  made  a 
law  that  no  one  for  the  future,  under  pain  of  death,  should 
either  by  speech  or  writing  propose  that  the  city  should  assert 
its  claim  to  that  island,  Solon  was  very  uneasy  at  so  dis¬ 
honourable  a  decree,  and  seeing  great  part  of  the  youth  desir- 
ous  to  begin  the  war  again,  being  restrained  from  it  only  by 
fear  of  the  law,  he  feigned  himself  insane;*  and  a  report 

*  When  the  Athenians  were  delivered  from  their  fears  by  the  death  of 
Epaminondas,  they  began  to  squander  away  upon  shows  and  plays  the 


SOLON. 


173 


spread  from  his  house  into  the  city,  that  he  was  out  of  his 
senses.  Privately,  however,  he  had  composed  an  elegy,  and 
got  it  by  heart,  in  order  to  repeat  it  in  public;  thus  prepared, 
he  sallied  cut  unexpectedly  into  the  market-place  with  a  cap 
jpon  liis  head*.  A  great  number  of  people  flocking  about, 
him  there,  he  got  upon  the  herald’s  stone,  and  sung  the  elegy 
which  begins  thus: — 

Hear  and  attend;  from  Salamis  I  came 

To  show  your  error. 

This  composition  is  entitled  Salamis,  and  consists  of  a  hundred 
very  beautiful  lines.  When  Solon  had  done,  his  friends  be¬ 
gan  to  express  their  admiration,  and  Pisistratus  in  particular 
exerted  himself  in  persuading  the  people  to  comply  with  hi* 
directions;  whereupon  they  repealed  the  law,  once  more  un¬ 
dertook  the  war,  and  invested  Solon  with  the  command.  The 
common  account  of  his  proceedings  is  this: — He  sailed  with 
Pisistratus  to  Colias,  and  having  seized  the  women,  who,  ac¬ 
cording  to  the  custom  of  the  country,  were  offering  sacrifice 
to  Ceres  there,  he  sent  a  trusty  person  to  Salamis,  who  was  to 
pretend  he  was  a  deserter,  and  to  advise  the  Megarensians,  if 
they  had  a  mind  to  seize  the  principal  Athenian  matrons,  to 
set  sail  immediately  for  Colias.  The  Megarensians  readily 
embracing  the  proposal,  and  sending  out  a  body  of  men,  So¬ 
lon  discovered  the  ship  as  it  put  off  from  the  island;  and  caus¬ 
ing  the  women  directly  to  withdraw,  ordered  a  number  oi 
young  men  whose  faces  were  yet  smooth,  to  dress  themselves 
m  their  habits,  caps,  and  shoes.  Thus,  with  weapons  con 
cealed  under  their  clothes,  they  were  to  dance  and  play  by 
the  sea-side  till  the  enemy  was  landed,  and  the  vessel  neai 
enough  to  be  seized.  Matters  being  thus  ordered,  the  Me¬ 
garensians  were  deceived  with  the  appearance,  and  ran  con¬ 
fusedly  on  shore,  striving  which  should  first  lay  hold  on  the 
women.  But  they  met  with  so  warm  a  reception  that  they 
were  cut  off  to  a  man;  and  the  Athenians  embarking  immedi¬ 
ately  for  Salamis,  took  possession  of  the  island. 

Others  deny  that  it  was  recovered  in  this  manner,  and  tell 
us,  that  Apollo,  being  first  consulted  at  Delphi,  gave  this  an¬ 
swer: — 

money  that  had  been  assigned  for  the  pay  of  the  army  and  navy,  and  at  the 
same  time  they  made  it  death  for  any  one  to  propose  a  reformation.  In  that 
case,  Demosthenes  did  not,  like  Solon,  attack  their  error  under  a  pretence 
of  insanity,  but  boldly  and  resolutely  spoke  ag-ainst  it,  and  by  the  force  of 
his  eloquence  brought  tliem  to  correct  it. 

*  None  wore  caps  but  the  sick. 


174 


SOLON. 


Go,  firs i  propitiate  the  country’s  chiefs 
Hid  iniEsopus’  lap;  who,  when  interr’d. 

Fac’d  the  declining-  sun. 

Upon  this  Solon  crossed  the  sea  by  night,  and  offered  sacri¬ 
fices  in  Salamis  to  the  heroes  Periphemus  and  Cichreus. 
Then  taking  five  hundred  Athenian  volunteers,  who  had  ob¬ 
tained  a  decree,  that  if  they  conquered  the  island,  the  govern¬ 
ment  of  it  should  be  invested  in  them,  he  sailed  with  a  num 
ber  of  fishing-vessels  and  one  galley  of  thirty  oars  for  Salamis, 
where  he  cast  anchor  at  a  point  which  looks  towards  Euboea. 

The  Megarensians  that  were  in  the  place  having  heard  a 
confused  report  of  what  had  happened,  betook  themselves  in 
a  disorderly  manner  to  arms,  and  sent  a  ship  to  discover  the 
enemy.  As  the  ship  approached  too  near,  Solon  took  it,  and 
securing  the  crew,  put  in  their  place  some  of  the  bravest  of 
the  Athenians,  with  orders  to  make  the  best  of  their  way  to 
the  city  as  privately  as  possible.  In  the  mean  time,  with  the 
rest  of  his  men,  he  attacked  the  Megarensians  by  land,  and 
while  these  were  engaged,  those  from  the  ship  took  the  city. 
A  custom  which  obtained  afterwards  seems  to  bear  witness  to 
the  truth  of  this  account;  for  an  Athenian  ship,  once  a-year, 
passed  silently  to  Salamis,  and  the  inhabitants  coming  down 
upon  it  with  noise  and  tumult,  one  man  in  armour  leaped 
ashore,  and  ran  shouting  towards  the  promontory  of  Sciradium, 
to  meet  those  that  were  advancing  by  land.  Near  that  place 
is  a  temple  of  Mars  erected  by  Solon;  for  there  it  was  that  he 
defeated  the  Megarensians,  and  dismissed,  upon  certain  con 
ditions,  such  as  were  not  slain  in  battle. 

However,  the  people  of  Megara  persisted  in  their  claim,  till 
both  sides  had  severely  felt  the  calamities  of  war;  and  then 
they  referred  the  affair  to  the  decision  of  the  Lacedaemonians 
Many  authors  relate  that  Solon  availed  himself  of  a  passage  in 
Homer’s  catalogue  of  ships,  which  he  alleged  before  the  arbi¬ 
trators,  dexterously  inserting  a  line  of  his  own;  for  to  tins 
verse: 


Ajax  from  Salamis  twelve  ships  commands. 

he  is  said  to  have  added, 

And  ranks  his  forces  with  th*  Athenian  power, 

Bui  the  Athenians  look  upon  this  as  an  idle  story,  and  tell  us, 
that  Solon  made  it  appear  to  the  judges,  that  Philaeus  and  Eu- 

*  This  line  could  be  no  sufficient  evidence;  for  there  are  many  passages 
in  Homer  which  prove  that  the  ships  of  Ajax  were  stationed  near  the  Thes 
saiians. 


SOLON. 


175 


rysaces,  sons  of  Ajax,  being  admitted  by  tie  Athenians  to  the 
freedom  of  their  city,  gave  up  the  island  to  them,  and  remov¬ 
ed,  the  one  to  Brauron,  and  the  other  to  Melite  in  Attica; 
likewise,  that  the  tribe  of  the  Philaidae,  of  which  Pisistratus 
was,  had  its  name  from  that  Philaeus.  He  brought  another 
argument  against  the  Megarensians  from  the  manner  of  bury¬ 
ing  in  Salamis,  which  was  agreeable  to  the  custom  of  Athens, 
and  not  to  that  of  Megara;  for  the  Megarensians  inter  the 
dead  with  their  faces  to  the  east,  and  the  Athenians  turn  theirs 
to  the  west.  On  the  other  hand,  Hereas  of  Megara  insists 
that  the  Megarensians  likewise  turn  the  faces  of  the  dead  to 
the  west;  and  what  is  more,  that,  like  the  people  of  Salamis, 
they  put  three  or  four  corpses  in  one  tomb,  whereas  the  Athe¬ 
nians  have  a  separate  tomb  for  each.  But  Solon’s  cause  was 
farther  assisted  by  certain  oracles  of  Apollo,  in  which  the 
island  was  called  Ionian  Salamis.  This  matter  was  determin¬ 
ed  by  five  Spartans,  Critolaides,  Amompharetus,  Hypsechidas, 
Anaxilas,  and  Cleomenes. 

Solon  acquired  considerable  honour  and  authority  in  Athens 
by  this  affair;  but  he  was  much  more  celebrated  among  the 
Greeks  in  general  for  negociating  succours  for  the  temple  at 
Delphi,  against  the  insolent  and  injurious  behaviour  of  the 
Cirrhaeans,*  and  persuading  the  Greeks  to  arm  for  the  honour 
of  the  god.  At  his  motion  it  was  that  the  Amphictyons  de¬ 
clared  war,  as  Aristotle,  among  others,  testifies,  in  his  book 
concerning  the  Pythian  games,  where  he  attributes  that  decree 
to  Solon.  He  was  not,  however,  appointed  general  in  that 
war,  as  Hermippus  relates  from  Euanthes  the  Samian.  For 
iEschines  the  orator  says  no  such  thing;  and  we  find  in  the 
records  of  Delphi,  that  Alcmaeon,  not  Solon,  commanded  the 
Athenians  on  that  occasion. 

Tne  execrable  proceeding  against  the  accomplices  of  Cy- 

*  The  inhabitants  of  Cirrha,  a  town  seated  in  the  bay  of  Corinth,  after 
having*  by  repeated  incursions  wasted  the  territory  of  Delphi,  besieged  the 
city  itself,  from  a  desire  of  making  themselves  masters  of  the  riches  contain¬ 
ed  in  the  temple  of  Apollo.  Advice  of  this  being  sent  to  the  Amphidyons , 
who  were  the  states-general  of  Greece,  Solon  advised  that  this  matter  should 
be  universally  resented.  Accordingly  Clisthenes,  tyrant  of  Sicyon,  was  sent 
commander  in  chief  against  the  Cirrhaeans;  Alcm?eon  was  general  of  the 
Athenian  quota;  and  Solon  went  as  counsellor  or  assistant  to  Clisthenes. 
When  the  Greek  army  had  besieged  Cirrha  some  time,  without  any  great 
appearance  of  success,  Apollo  was  consulted,  who  answered,  that  they 
should  not  be  able  to  reduce  the  place  till  the  waves  of  the  Cirrhzean  sea 
washed  the  territories  of  Delphi.  This  answer  struck  the  army  with  sur¬ 
prise;  from  which  Solon  extricated  them,  by  advising  Clisthenes  to  conse¬ 
crate  the  whole  territories  of  Cirrha  to  the  Delphic  Apollo,  whence  it  would 
follow  that,  the  sea  must  wash  the  sacred  coast.  Pausanias  fin  PhoricisJ 
mentions  another  stratagem,  which  was  not  worthy  of  the  justice  of  SoIoh. 
Cirrha,  however,  was.  taken,  and  became  henceforth  the  arsenal  of  Delphi. 


170 


SOLON. 


Ion,*  had  long  occasioned  great  troubles  in  the  Athenian  state 
The  conspirators  had  taken  sanctuary  in  Minerva’s  temple; 
but  Megacles,  then  archon,  persuaded  them  to  quit  it,  and 
stand  trial,  under  the  notion  that  if  they  tied  a  thread  to  the 
shrine  of  the  goddess,  and  kept  hold  of  it,  they  would  still  be 
under  her  protection.  But  when  they  came  over  against  the 
temple  of  the  Furies,  the  thread  broke  of  itself;  upon  which 
Megacles  and  his  colleagues  rushed  upon  them,  and  seized 
them,  as  if  they  had  lost  their  privilege.  Such  as  were  out. 
of  the  temple  were  stoned;  those  that  fled  to  the  altars  were 
cut  in  pieces  there;  and  they  only  were  spared  who  made  ap¬ 
plication  to  the  wives  of  the  magistrates.  From  that  time 
those  magistrates  were  called  execrable ,  and  became  objects  of 
the  public  hatred.  The  remains  of  Cylon’s  faction  afterwards 
recovered  strength,  and  kept  up  the  quarrel  with  the  descen¬ 
dants  of  Megacles.  The  dispute  was  greater  than  ever,  and  the 
two  parties  more  exasperated,  when  Solon,  whose  authority 
was  now  very  great,  and  others  of  the  principal  Athenians, 
interposed,  and  by  entreaties  and  arguments  persuaded  the 
persons  called  execrable  to  submit  to  justice  and  a  fair  trial,  be¬ 
fore  three  hundred  judges  selected  from  the  nobility.  Myron, 
of  the  Phylensian  ward,  carried  on  the  impeachment,  and  they 
were  condemned.  As  many  as  were  alive,  were  driven  into 
exile;  and  the  bodies  of  the  dead  dug  up  and  cast  out  beyond 
the  borders  of  Attica.  Amidst  these  disturbances,  the  Me- 
garensians  renewed  the  war,  took  Nisae  from  the  Athenians, 
and  recovered  Salamis  once  more. 

About  this  time  the  city  was  likewise  afflicted  with  supersti¬ 
tious  fears  and  strange  appearances;  and  the  soothsayers  de¬ 
clared,  that  there  were  certain  abominable  crimes,  which  want¬ 
ed  expiation,  pointed  out  by  the  entrails  of  the  victims.  Upon 


*  There  was,  for  a  long*  time  after  the  democracy  took  place,  a  strong 
party  against  it,  who  left  no  measures  untried,  in  order,  if  possible,  to  restore 
their  ancient  form  of  government.  Cylon,  a  man  of  quality,  and  son-in-law 
to  Theagenes,  tyrant  of  Megara,  repined  at  the  sudden  change  of  the  ma¬ 
gistrates,  and  had  the  thoughts  of  asking  that  as  a  favour,  which  he  appre¬ 
hended  to  be  due  to  his  birth-right.  He  formed,  therefore,  a  design  to 
seize  the  citadel;  which  he  put  in  practice  in  the  forty-fifth  Olympiad,  when 
many  of  the  citizens  were  gone  to  the  Olympic  games.  Megacles,  who 
was  at  that  time  chief  archon,  with  the  other  magistrates  and  the  whole  pow¬ 
er  of  Athens,  immediately  besieged  the  conspirators  there,  and  reduced 
them  to  such  distress,  that  Cylon  and  his  brother  fled,  and  left  the  meaner 
sort  to  shift  for  themselves.  Such  as  escaped  the  sword,  took  refuge,  as 
Plutarch  relates,  in  Minerva’s  temple;  and  though  they  deserved  death  for 
conspiring  against  the  government,  yet,  as  the  magistrates  put  them  to  death 
in  breach  of  the  privilege  of  sanctuary,  they  brought  upon  themselves  the 
indignation  of  the  superstitious  Athenians*  who  deemed  such  a  breach  a 
greater  crime  than  treason. 


SOLDI*. 


in 

ahis  they  sent  to  Crete  for  Epimenides  the  Phscstiany*  who  is 
reckoned  the  seventh  among  the  wise  men,  by  those  that  do 
not  admit  Periander  into  the  number.  He  was  reputed  a  man 
of  great  piety,  and  loved  by  the  gods,  and  skilled  in  matters 
of  religion,  particularly  in  what  related  to  inspiration  and  the 
sacred  mysteries;  therefore  the  men  of  those  days  called  him 
the  son  of  the  nymph  Balte,  and  one  of  the  Curetes  revived. 
When  he  arrived  at  Athens,  he  contracted  a  friendship  with 
Solon,  and  privately  gave  him  considerable  assistance,  prepare 
mg  the  way  for  the  reception  of  his  laws.  For  he  taught  the 
Athenians  to  be  more  frugal  in  their  religious  worship,  and 
more  moderate  in  their  mourning,  by  intermixing  certain  sa¬ 
crifices  with  the  funeral  solemnities,  and  abolishing  the  cruel 
and  barbarous  customs  that  had  generally  prevailed  among  the 
women  before.  What  is  of  still  greater  consequence,  by  ex¬ 
piations,  lustrations,  and  the  erecting  of  temples  and  shrines, 
ne  hallowed  and  purified  the  city,  and  made  the  people  more 
observant  of  justice,  and  more  inclined  to  union. 

When  he  Had  seen  Munychia,  and  considered  it  some  time, 
he  is  reported  to  have  said  to  those  about  him,t  “How  blind 
is  man  to  futurity!  If  the  Athenians  could  foresee  what  trouble 
that  place  will  give  them,  they  would  tear  it  in  pieces  with 
their  teeth  rather  than  it  should  stand.*1  Something  similar 
lo  this  is  related  of  Thales;  for  he  ordered  the  Milesians  to 
bury  him  in  a  certain  recluse  and  neglected  place,  and  fore¬ 
told,  at  the  same  time,  that  their  market-place  would  one  day 
stand  there.  As  for  Epimenides,  he  was  held  in  admiration 
at  Athens;  great  honours  were  paid  him,  and  many  valuable 
presents  made;  yet  he  would  accept  of  nothing  but  a  branch  of 

*  This  Epimenides  was  a  very  extraordinary  person.  Diogenes  Laertius 
tells  us,  that  he  was  the  inventor  of  the  art  of  lustrating  or  purifying  houses, 
fields,  and  persons;  which,  if  spoken  of  Greece,  may  be  true;  but  Moses  had 
long  before  taught  the  Hebrews  something  of  this  nature. — (~  Vide  lev  it. 
xvi.)  Epimenides  took  some  sheep  that  were  all  black,  and  others  that  were 
all  white;  these  he  led  into  the  Areopagus,  and  turning  them  loose,  directed 
certain  persons  to  follow  them,  who  should  mark  where  they  couched,  and 
there  sacrifice  them  to  the  local  deity.  This  being  done,  altars  were  erect¬ 
ed  in  all  these  places  to  perpetuate  the  memory  of  this  solemn  expiation. 
There  were,  however,  other  ceremonies  practised  for  the  purpose  of  lustra¬ 
tion,  of  which  Tizetzes,  in  his  poetical  chronicle,  gives  a  particular  account, 
but  which  are  too  trifling  to  be  mentioned  here. 

f  This  prediction  was  fulfilled  270  years  after,  when  Antipater  constrain¬ 
ed  the  Athenians  to  admit  his  garrison  into  that  place.  Besides  this  pro¬ 
phecy,  Epimenides  uttered  another  during  his  stay  at  Athens;  for  hearing 
that  the  citizens  were  alarmed  at  the  progress  of  the  Persian  power  at  sea, 
he  advised  them  to  make  themselves  easy,  for  that  the  Persians  would  not 
for  many  years  attempt  any  thing  against  the  Greeks,  and  when  they  did, 
they  would  receive  greater  loss  themselves  than  they  would  be  able  to  hr  Jig 
wpon  the  states  they  thought  to  destroy. — La'erf.  in  J'itd  et  Bimen 

V^ot.  L - — -g  B  *  7 


178 


SOLON 


the  sacred  olive,  which  they  gave  him  at  his  request;  and  with 
that  he  departed. 

When  the  troubles  about  Cylon’s  affairs  were  over,  and  the 
sacrilegious  persons  removed  in  the  manner  we  have  mention¬ 
ed,  the  Athenians  relapsed  into  their  old  disputes  concerning 
the  government;  for  there  were  as  many  parties  among  them 
as  there  were  different  tracts  of  land  in  their  country.  The 
inhabitants  of  the  mountainous  part  were,  it  seems,  for  a  de¬ 
mocracy;  those  of  the  plains  for  an  oligarchy;  and  those  of  the 
sea-coasts,  contending  for  a  mixed  kind  of  government,  hin¬ 
dered  the  other  two  from  gaining  their  point.  At  the  same 
:ime,  the  inequality  between  the  poor  and  the  rich  occasioned 
the  greatest  discord;  and  the  state  was  in  so  dangerous  a  situ¬ 
ation,  that  there  seemed  to  be  no  way  to  quell  the  seditious, 
or  to  save  it  from  ruin,  but  changing  it  to  a  monarchy.  So 
greatly  were  the  poor  in  debt  to  the  rich,  that  they  were  obli¬ 
ged  either  to  pay  them  a  sixth  part  of  the  produce  of  the  land 
(whence  they  were  called  Hedemorii  and  Theies ),  or  else  to  en¬ 
gage  their  persons  to  their  creditors,  who  might  seize  them  on 
failure  of  payment.  Accordingly  some  made  slaves  of  them, 
and  others  sold  them  to  foreigners.  Nay,  some  parents  were 
forced  to  sell  their  own  children  (for  no  law  forbade  it),  and 
to  quit  the  city,  to  avoid  the  severe  treatment  of  those  usurers. 
But  the  greater  number,  and  men  of  the  most  spirit,  agreed  to 
stand  by  each  other,  and  to  bear  such  impositions  no  longer. 
They  determined  to  choose  a  trusty  person  for  their  leader, 
to  deliver  those  who  had  failed  in  their  time  of  payment,  to  di¬ 
vide  the  land,  and  to  give  an  entire  new  face  to  the  common 
wealth. 

Then  the  most  prudent  of  the  Athenians  cast  their  eyes  up¬ 
on  Solon,  as  a  man  least  obnoxious  to  either  party,  having 
neither  been  engaged  in  oppressions  with  the  rich,  nor  en¬ 
tangled  in  necessities  with  the  poor.  Him,  therefore,  they  en¬ 
treated  to  assist  the  public  in  this  exigency,  and  to  compose 
these  differences.  Phanias,  the  Lesbian,  asserts,  indeed,  that 
Solon,  to  save  the  state,  dealt  artfully  with  both  parties,  and 
privately  promised  the  poor  a  division  of  the  lands,  and  the 
rich  a  confirmation  of  their  securities.  At  first  he  was  loth  to 
take  the  administration  upon  him,  by  reason  of  the  avarice  of 
some,  and  the  insolence  of  others;  but  was,  however,  chosen 
archon  next  after  Philombrotus,  and  at  the  same  time  arbitra¬ 
tor  and  lawgiver;  the  rich  accepting  of  him  readily  as  one  of 
them ,  and  the  poor  as  a  good  and  worthy  man.  They  tell  us, 
too,  that  a  saying  of  his,  which  he  had  let  fall  some  time  be¬ 
fore,  that— “  equality  causes  no  war,”  was  then  much  repeat¬ 
ed,  and  pleased  both  the  rich  and  the  poor;  the  latter  expect 
ing  to  come  to  a  balance  by  th^i^  numbers  and  bv  the  measure 


SOLON. 


179 


ol  divided  lands,  and  the  former  to  preserve  an  equality  at 
least  by  their  dignity  and  power.  Thus  both  parties  being  in 
great  hopes,  the  heads  of  them  were  urgent  with  Solon  to 
make  himself  king,  and  endeavoured  to  persuade  him,  that  he 
might  with  better  assurance  take  upon  him  the  direction  of  a 
city  where  he  had  the  supreme  authority.  Nay,  many  of  the 
citizens  that  leaned  to  neither  party,  seeing  the  intended 
change  difficult  to  be  effected  by  reason  and  law,  were  not 
against  the  entrusting  of  the  government  to  the  hands  of  one 
wise  and  just  man.  Some,  moreover,  acquaint  us,  that  he  re¬ 
ceived  this  oracle  from  Apollo: — 

Seize,  seize  the  helm,  the  reeling’  vessel  guide. 

With  aiding*  patriots  stem  the  raging1  tide. 

His  friends,  in  particular,  told  him  it  would  appear  that  ne 
wanted  courage,  if  he  rejected  the  monarchy  for  fear  of  the 
name  of  tyrant,  as  if  the  sole  and  supreme  power  would  not 
soon  become  a  lawful  sovereignty  through  the  virtues  of  him 
that  received  it.  Thus  formerly  (said  they)  the  Eubceans  set 
up  Tynnondas,  and  lately  the  Mitylenaeans  Pittacus  for  their 
prince.*  None  of  these  things  moved  Solon  from  his  pur¬ 
pose;  and  the  answer  he  is  said  to  have  given  to  his  friends 
is  this: — “Absolute  monarchy  is  a  fair  field,  but  it  has  no 
outlet.”  And  in  one  of  his  poems  he  thus  addresses  himself 
to  his  friend  Phocus: — 

- If  I  spar’d  my  country, 

If  gilded  violence  and  tyrannic  sway 

Could  never  charm  me,  thence  no  shame  accrues; 

Still  the  mild  honour  of  my  name  I  boast. 

And  find  my  empire  there. 

Whence  it  is  evident  that  his  reputation  was  very  great  before 
he  appeared  in  the  character  of  a  legislator.  As  for  the  ridi¬ 
cule  he  was  exposed  to  for  rejecting  kingly  power,  he  has  de 
scribed  it  in  the  following  verses: — 

Nor  wisdom’s  palm,  nor  deep  laid  policy 

Can  Solon  boast;  for  when  its  noblest  blessings 

Heaven  pour’d  into  his  lap,  he  spurn’d  them  from  him. 

Where  was  his  sense  and  spirit,  when  enclos’d 

*  Pi  ttacus,  one  of  the  seven  wise  men  of  Greece,  made  himself  master  of 
Mitylene;  for  which  Alcaeus,  who  was  of  the  same  town,  contemporaiy  with 
Pittacus,  and  as  a  poet,  a  friend  to  liberty,  satirized  him,  as  he  did  the 
other  tyrants.  Pittacus  disregarded  his  censures;  and  having  by  his  authority 
quelled  the  seditions  of  his  citizens,  and  established  peace  and  harmony 
among  them,  he  voluntarily  quitted  his  power,  and  restored  his  country  t* 
its  liberty. 


J80 


SOLON. 


He  found  the  choicest  prey,  nor  deign’d  to  draw  It  * 

Who,  to  command  fair  Athens  but  one  day. 

Would  not  himself,  with  all  liis  race,  have  fallen 
Contented  on  the  morrow? 

Thus  he  has  introduced  the  multitude  and  men  of  low  minds 
as  discoursing  about  him.  But  though  he  rejected  absolute 

S>wer,  he  proceeded  with  spirit  enough  in  the  administration. 

e  did  not  make  any  concessions  in  behalf  of  the  powerful, 
nor,  in  the  framing  of  his  laws,  did  he  indulge  the  humour  of 
his  constituents.  Where  the  former  establishment  was  toler¬ 
able,  he  neither  applied  remedies,  nor  used  the  incision  knife, 
lest  he  should  put  the  whole  in  disorder,  and  not  have  power 
to  settle  or  compose  it  afterwards  in  the  temperature  he  could 
wish.  He  only  made  such  alterations  as  he  might  bring  the 
people  to  acquiesce  in  by  persuasion,  or  compel  them  to  by 
his  authority,  making  (as  he  says) — “  force  and  right  con¬ 
spire.”  Hence  it  was,  that  having  the  question  afterwards 
put  to  him, — “Whether  he  had  provided  the  best  of  laws  for 
the  Athenians?”  he  answered, — “  The  best  they  were  capable 
of  receiving.  ”  And  as  the  moderns  observe,  that  the  Athe¬ 
nians  used  to  qualify  the  harshness  of  things  by  giving  them 
softer  and  politer  names,  calling  whores  mistresses ,  tributes  con¬ 
tributions ■,  garrisons  guards ,  and  prisons  castles ;  so  Solon  seems 
to  be  the  first  that  distinguished  the  cancelling  of  debts  by  ti'  e 
name  of  a  discharge .  F or  this  was  the  first  of  his  public  acts 
that  debts  should  be  forgiven,  and  that  no  man  for  the  fu¬ 
ture  should  take  the  body  of  his  debtor  for  security.  Though 
Androtion  and  some  others  say,  that  it  was  not  by  the  cancel¬ 
ling  of  debts,  but  by  moderating  the  interest,  that  the  poor 
were  relieved,  they  thought  themselves  so  happy  in  it,  that 
they  gave  the  name  of  discharge  to  this  act  of  humanity,  as 
well  as  to  the  enlarging  of  measures  and  the  value  of  money, 
which  went  along  with  it.  For  he  ordered  the  minas,  which 
before  went  but  tor  seventy -three  drachmas ,  to  go  for  a  hun¬ 
dred;  so  that,  as  they  paid  the  same  in  value,  but  much  less 
in  weight,  those  that  had  great  sums  to  pay  were  relieved, 
while  such  as  received  them  were  no  losers. 

The  greater  part  of  writers,  however,  affirm,  that  it  was 
the  abolition  of  past  securities  that  was  called  a  discharge ;  and 
with  these  the  poems  of  Solon  agree;  for  in  them  he  values 
himself  on — “  having  taken  away  the  marks  of  mortgaged 
land,*  which  before  were  almost  every  where  set  up,  and 
made  free  those  fields  which  before  were  bound!”  and  not 
only  so,  but — “  of  such  citizens  as  were  seizable  by  their  cre- 

*  The  Athenians  had  a  custcm  of  fixing’  up  billets,  to  show  that  house# 
or  lands  u?ere  mortgaged. 


SOLON. 


181 


ditors  for  debt,  some,’’  he  tells  us,  “he  had  brought  back 
from  other  countries  where  they  had  wandered  so  long,  that 
they  had  forgot  the  Attic  dialect,  and  others  he  had  set  at  li¬ 
berty  who  had  experienced  a  cruel  slavery  at  home. 

This  affair,  indeed,  brought  upon  him  the  greatest  trouble 
he  met  with;  for  when  he  undertook  the  annulling  of  debts, 
and  was  considering  of  a  suitable  speech,  and  a  proper  method 
of  introducing  the  business,  he  told  some  of  his  most  intimate 
friends,  namely  Conon,  Clinias,  and  Hipponicus,  that  he  in¬ 
tended  only  to  abolish  the  debts,  and  not  to  meddle  with  the 
lands.  These  friends  of  his  hastening  to  make  their  advan¬ 
tage  of  the  secret  before  the  decree  took  place,  borrowed 
large  sums  of  the  rich,  and  purchased  estates  with  them.  Af¬ 
terwards,  when  the  decree  was  published,  they  kept  their 
possessions,  without  paying  the  money  they  had  taken  up; 
which  brought  great  reflections  upon  Solon,  as  if  he  had  not 
been  imposed  upon  with  the  rest,  but  rather  an  accomplice  in 
the  fraud.  This  charge,  however,  was  soon  removed,  by  his 
being  the  first  to  comply  with  the  law,  and  remitting  a  debt 
of  five  talents,  which  he  had  out  at  interest.  Others,  among 
whom  is  Polyzelus  the  Rhodian,  say  it  was  fifteen  talents. 
But  his  friends  went  by  the  name  of  Chreocopidae  or  debt-cutters , 
ever  after. 

The  method  he  took  satisfied  neither  the  poor  nor  the  rich. 
The  latter  were  displeased  by  the  cancelling  of  their  bonds, 
and  the  former  at  not  finding  a  division  of  lands.  Upon  this 
they  had  fixed  their  hopes;  and  they  complained  that  he  had 
not,  like  Lycurgus,  made  all  the  citizens  equal  in  estate.  Ly- 
curgus,  however,  being  the  eleventh  from  Hercules,  and  hav¬ 
ing  reigned  many  years  in  Lacedaemon,  had  acquired  great 
authority,  interest,  and  friends,  of  which  he  knew  very  well 
how  to  avail  himself  in  setting  up  a  new  form  of  government; 
yet  he  was  obliged  to  have  recourse  to  force  rather  than  per¬ 
suasion,  and  had  an  eye  struck  out  in  the  dispute,  before  he 
could  bring  it  to  a  lasting  settlement,  and  establish  such  an 
union  and  equality  as  left  neither  rich  nor  poor  in  the  city. 
On  the  other  hand,  Solon’s  estate  was  but  moderate,  not  supe¬ 
rior  to  that  of  some  commoners,  and,  therefore,  he  attempted 
not  to  erect  such  a  commonwealth  as  that  of  Lycurgus,  con¬ 
sidering  it  as  out  of  his  power;  he  proceeded  as  far  as  he 
thought  he  could  be  supported  by  the  confidence  the  people 
had  in  his  probity  and  wisdom. 

That  he  answered  not  the  expectations  of  the  generality, 
but  offended  them  by  falling  short,  appears  from  these  verses 
of  his: — 


17* 


SOLON. 


182 


Those  eyes,  with  joy  once  sparkling1  when  they  view’d  me. 

With  cold  oblique  regard  behold  me  now. 

And  a  little  after, — 

- Yet  who  but  Solon 

Could  have  spoke  peace  to  their  tumultuous  waves, 

And  not  have  sunk  beneath  them?* 

Cut  being  soon  sensible  of  the  utility  of  the  decree,  they  laid 
aside  their  complaints,  offered  a  public  sacrifice,  which  the}' 
called  seisacthia ,  or  the  sacrifice  of  the  discharge ,  and  constituted 
Solon  lawgiver  and  superintendent  of  the  commonwealth; 
committing  to  him  the  regulation  not  of  a  part  only,  but  the 
whole — magistracies,  assemblies,  courts  of  judicature,  and 
senate;  and  leaving  him  to  determine  the  qualification,  num¬ 
ber,  and  time  of  meeting  for  them  all,  as  well  as  to  abrogate 
or  continue  the  former  constitutions  at  his  pleasure. 

First,  then,  he  repealed  the  laws  of  Draco, t  except  those 
concerning  murder,  because  of  the  severity  of  the  punishments 
they  appointed:  which  for  almost  all  offences  were  capital; 
even  those  that  were  convicted  of  idleness  were  to  suffer  death, 
and  such  as  stole  only  a  few  apples  or  pot-herbs,  were  to  be 
punished  in  the  same  manner  as  sacrilegious  persons  and  mur¬ 
derers.  Hence  a  saying  of  Demades,  who  lived  long  after, 
was  much  admired, — 66  That  Draco  wrote  his  laws  not  with 
ink,  but  with  blood. ”  And  he  himself  being  asked,  “Why 
he  made  death  the  punishment  for  most  offences?”  answered, 

* - ryu  is  a  proverbial  expression,  which  will  not  bear  a 

literal  prose  translation,  much  less  a  poetical  one.  It  was  necessary,  there¬ 
fore,  to  give  a  new  turn  to  the  sentence,  only  keeping  the  sense  in  view. 

j-  Draco  was  archon  in  the  second,  though  some  say  in  the  last  year  of 
the  thirty-ninth  Olympiad,  about  the  year  before  Christ  623.  Though  the 
name  of  this  great  man  occurs  frequently  in  history,  yet  we  no  where  find 
so  much  as  ten  fines  together  concerning  him  and  his  institutions.  He  may 
be  considered  as  the  first  legislator  of  the  Athenians;  for  the  laws,  or  rather 
precepts  of  Triptolemus,  were  very  few,  viz.  Honour  your  parents;  worship 
the  gods ;  hurt  not  animals.  Draco  was  the  first  of  the  Greeks  that  punished 
adultery  with  death;  and  he  esteemed  murder  so  high  a  crime,  that  to  im¬ 
print  a  deep  abhorrence  of  it  in  the  minds  of  men,  he  ordained  that  process 
should  be  carried  on  even  against  inanimate  things,  if  they  accidentally 
caused  the  death  of  any  person.  But,  besides  murder  and  adultery,  which 
deserved  death,  he  made  a  number  of  smaller  offences  capital;  and  that 
brought  almost  all  his  laws  into  disuse.  The  extravagant  severity  of  them, 
like  an  edge  too  finely  ground,  hindered  his  thesmvi,  as  he  called  them, 
from  striking  deep.  Porphyry  (" de  Abstinent.  J  has  preserved  one  of  them 
concerning  divine  worship:  “It  is  an  everlasting  law  in  Attica,  that  the 
gods  are  to  be  worshipped,  and  the  heroes  also,  according  to  the  customs 
of  our  ancestors,  and  in  private  only  with  a  proper  address,  first  fruits,  and 
annual  libations.” 


SOLON. 


183 


%fc  Small  ones  deserve  it,  and  I  can  find  no  greater  for  the  most 
heinous.5' 

In  the  next  place,  Solon  took  an  estimate  of  the  estates  of 
the  citizens;  intending  to  leave  the  great  offices  in  the  hands 
of  the  rich,  but  to  give  the  rest  of  the  people  a  share  in  other 
departments  which  they  had  not  before.  Such  as  had  a  year- 
Iv  income  of  five  hundred  measures  in  wet  and  dry  goods,  he 
placed  in  the  first  rank,  and  called  them  Pentacosiomedimni.  * 
The  second  consisted  of  those  that  could  keep  a  horse,  or 
whose  lands  produced  three  hundred  measures;  these  were  of 
the  equestrian  order,  and  called  Hippoda  telountes .  And  those 
of  the  third  class,  who  had  but  two  hundred  measures,  were 
called  Zeugitce .  The  rest  were  named  Thetes ,  and  not  admit¬ 
ted  to  any  office;  they  had  only  a  right  to  appear  and  give  their 
vote  in  the  general  assembly  of  the  people.  This  seemed  at 
first  but  a  slight  privilege,  but  afterwards  showed  itself  a  mat¬ 
ter  of  great  importance;  for  most  causes  came  at  last  to  be  de¬ 
cided  by  them;  and  in  such  matters  as  were  under  the  cogni¬ 
zance  of  the  magistrates,  there  lay  an  appeal  to  the  people. 
Besides,  he  is  said  to  have  drawn  up  his  laws  in  an  obscure 
and  ambiguous  manner,  on  purpose  to  enlarge  the  authority 
of  the  popular  tribunal;  for  as  they  could  not  adjust  their  dif¬ 
ference  by  the  letter  of  the  law,  they  were  obliged  to  have  re¬ 
course  to  living  judges;  I  mean  the  whole  body  of  citizens, 
who,  therefore,  had  all  controversies  brought  before  them,  and 
were  in  a  manner  superior  to  the  laws.  Of  this  equality,  he 
himself  takes  notice  in  these  words: — 


By  me  the  people  held  their  native  rights 
Uninjur’d,  unoppress’d — The  great  restrain’d 
From  lawless  violence,  and  the  poor  from  rapine. 

By  me,  their  mutual  shield. 

Desirous  yet  farther  to  strengthen  the  common  people,  he  em¬ 
powered  any  man  whatever  to  enter  an  action  for  one  that  was 
injured.  If  a  person  was  assaulted,  or  suffered  damage  or 
violence,  another  that  was  able  and  willing  to  do  it  might  pro¬ 
secute  the  offender.  Thus  the  lawgiver  wisely  accustomed 
the  citizens,  as  members  of  one  body,  to  feel  and  to  resent  one 
another’s  injuries.  And  we  are  told  of  a  saying  of  his  agreea- 


*  The  Pentacosiomedimni  paid  a  talent  to  the  public  treasury;  the  Hippoda 
telountes,  as  the  word  signifies,  were  obliged  to  find  ahorse,  and  to  serve  as 
cavalry  in  the  wars;  the  Zeugiix  were  so  called,  as  being  of  a  middle  rank 
between  the  knights  and  those  of  the  lowest  order  (for  rowers  who  have  the 
middle  bench  between  the  Thalamites  and  the  Thranites,  are  called  Zeugitae ) ; 
and  though  the  Thetes  had  barely  each  a  vote  in  the  general  assemblies,  yet 
that  (as  Plutarch  observes)  appeared  in  time  to  be  a  great  privilege,  most 
causes  being  brought  by  appeal  before  the  people. 


SOLON. 


184 

ble  to  this  law;  being  asked, — 66  What  city  was  best  model- 
led?”  he  answered ; — u  That,  where  those  who  are  not  injured, 
are  no  less  ready  to  prosecute  and  punish  offenders,  than  those 
who  are.” 

When  these  points  were  ad  justed,  he  established  the  council 
of  the  areopagus ,*  which  was  to  consist  of  such  as  had  borne 
the  office  of  archon, t  and  himself  was  one  of  the  number.  But 
observing  that  the  people,  now  discharged  from  their  debts, 
grew  insolent  and  imperious,  he  proceeded  to  constitute  ano¬ 
ther  council  or  senate,  of  four  hundred,  %  a  hundred  out  of 
each  tribe,  by  whom  all  affairs  were  to  be  previously  consider¬ 
ed;  and  ordered  that  no  matter,  without  their  approbation, 
should  be  laid  before  the  general  assembly  In  the  mean  time, 
the  high  court  of  the  areopagus  were  to  be  the  inspectors  and 
guardians  of  the  laws.  Thus  he  supposed  the  commonwealth, 
secured  by  two  councils,  as  by  two  anchors,  would  be  less  lia¬ 
ble  to  be  shaken  by  tumults,  and  the  people  would  become 

*  The  court  of  areopagus ,  though  settled  long  before,  had  lost  much  of  its 
power  by  Draco’s  preferring  the  ephetae.  In  ancient  times,  and  till  Solon 
became  legislator,  it  consisted  of  such  persons  as  were  most  conspicuous  in 
the  state  for  their  wealth,  power,  and  probity;  but  Solon  made  it  a  rule,  that 
such  only  should  have  a  seat  in  it  as  had  borne  the  office  of  arclion.  This 
had  the  effect  he  designed;  it  raised  the  reputation  of  the  areopagites  very 
high,  and  rendered  their  decrees  so  venerable,  that  none  contested  or  re¬ 
pined  at  them  through  a  long  course  of  ages. 

f  After  the  extinction  of  the  race  of  the  Medontidae,  the  Athenians  made 
the  office  of  arclion  annual;  and  instead  of  one,  they  created  nine  archons. 
By  the  latter  expedient,  they  provided  against  the  too  great  power  of  a  sin¬ 
gle  person,  as  by  the  former  they  took  away  all  apprehension  of  the  archom 
setting  up  for  sovereigns.  In  one  word,  they  attained  now  what  they  had 
long  sought — the  making  their  supreme  magistrate  dependent  on  the  people. 
This  remarkable  era  of  the  completion  of  the  Athenian  democracy  was,  ac¬ 
cording  to  the  Marmora ,  in  the  first  year  of  the  xxivth  Olympiad,  before 
Christ  684.  That  these  magistrates  might,  however,  retain  sufficient  autho¬ 
rity  and  dignity,  they  had  high  titles  and  great  honours  annexed  to  their  of¬ 
fices.  The  first  was  styled,  by  way  of  eminence,  the  Archon ,  and  the  year 
was  distinguished  by  his  name.  The  second  was  called  Basileus ,  that  is,  king; 
for  they  chose  to  have  that  title  considered  as  a  secondary  one.  This  officer 
had  the  care  of  religion.  The  third  had  the  name  of  Polemarch ,  for  war  was 
his  particular  province.  The  other  six  had  the  title  of  ThesmoihcLf, ,  and 
were  considered  as  the  guardians  of  their  laws.  These  archons  continued 
till  the  time  of  the  emperor  Gallienus. 

t  The  number  of  tribes  was  increased  by  Callisthenes  to  ten,  pfter  he  had 
driven  out  the  Pisistratidae;  and  then  this  senate  consisted  of  five  hundred, 
fifty  being  chosen  out  of  each  tribe,  Towards  the  close  of  the  year,  the 
president  of  each  tribe  gave  in  a  list  of  candidates,  out  of  whom  the  sena¬ 
tors  were  elected  by  lot.  The  senators  then  appointed  the  officers  called 
prytanes .  The  prytanes,  while  the  senate  consisted  of  500,  were  50  in 
number;  and,  for  the  avoiding  of  confusion,  ten  of  these  presided  a  week, 
during  which  space  they  were  called  proedri ,  and  out  of  them  an  cpistates 
or  president,  was  chosen,  whose  office  lasted  but  one  day. 


SOLON. 


135 


more  orderly  and  peaceable.  Most  writers,  as  we  have  ob¬ 
served,  affirm,  that  the  council  of  the  areopagus  was  of  Solon’s 
appointing;  and  it  seems  greatly  to  confirm  their  assertion, 
that  Draco  has  made  no  mention  of  the  areopagites ,  but  in 
capital  causes  constantly  addresses  himself  to  the  ephetse;  yet 
the  eighth  law  of  Solon’s  thirteenth  table  is  set  down  in  these 
very  words: — “Whoever  were  declared  infamous  before  So¬ 
lon’s  archonship,  let  them  be  restored  in  honour,  except  such 
as  having  been  condemned  in  the  areopagus,  or  by  the  ephetse, 
or  by  the  kings  in  the  Prytaneum,  for  murder  or  robbery,  or 
attempting  to  usurp  the  government,  had  fled  their  country 
before  this  law  was  made.  ”  This  on  the  contrary  shows,  that 
before  Solon  was  chief  magistrate,  and  delivered  his  laws,  the 
council  of  the  areopagus  was  in  being;  for  who  could  have  been 
condemned  in  the  areopagus  before  Solon’s  time,  if  he  was  the 
first  that  erected  it  into  a  court  of  judicature?  Unless,  perhaps, 
there  be  some  obscurity  or  deficiency  in  the  text,  and  the 
meaning  be,  that  such  as  have  been  convicted  of  crimes  that 
are  now  cognizable  before  the  areopagites ,  the  ephetse*  and 
prytanes ,  shall  continue  infamous,  while  others  are  restored. 
But  this  I  submit  to  the  judgment  of  the  reader. 

The  most  peculiar  and  surprising  of  his  other  laws,  is  that 
which  declares  the  man  infamous  who  stands  neuter  in  time 
of  sedition,  t  It  seems,  he  would  not  have  us  be  indifferent 
and  unaffected  with  the  fate  of  the  public,  when  our  own  con¬ 
cerns  are  upon  a  safe  bottom;  nor  when  we  are  in  health,  be 
insensible  to  the  distempers  and  griefs  of  our  country.  He 
would  have  us  espouse  the  better  and  juster  cause,  and  hazard 
every  thing  in  defence  of  it,  rather  than  wait  in  safety  to  see 
which  side  the  victory  will  incline  to.  That  law,  too,  seems 
quite  ridiculous  and  absurd,  which  permits  a  rich  heiress, 
whose  husband  happens  to  be  impotent,  to  console  herself 

*  The  ephetse  were  first  appointed  in  the  reign  of  Demophon,  the  son  of 
Theseus,  for  the  trying  of  wilful  murders,  and  cases  of  manslaughter.  They 
consisted  at  first  of  fifty  Athenians,  and  as  many  Argives;  but  Draco  exclu¬ 
ded  the  Argives,  and  ordered  that  it  should  be  composed  of  fifty-one  Athe¬ 
nians,  who  were  all  to  be  turned  of  fifty  years  of  age.  He  also  fixed  their 
authority  above  that  of  the  areopagites;  but  Solon  brought  them  under  that 
court,  and  limited  their  jurisdiction. 

j-  Aulus  Gellius,  who  has  preserved  the  very  words  of  this  law,  adcs,  that 
one  who  so  stood  neuter,  should  lose  his  houses,  his  country,  and  estate,  and 
be  sent  out  an  exile. — Nod.  Attic .  1.  ii  c.  12. 

Plutarch,  in  another  place  condemns  this  law;  but  Gellius  highly  com¬ 
mends  it,  and  assigns  this  reason: — The  wise  and  just,  as  well  as  the  envious 
and  wicked,  being  obliged  to  choose  some  side,  matters  were  easily  accom¬ 
modated;  whereas,  if  the  latter  only,  as  is  generally  the  case  with  other 
cities  had  the  management  of  factions,  they  would,  for  private  reasons,  It 
continually  kept  up,  to  the  great  hurt,  if  not  the  utter  ruin,  of  the  state 

Vol.  I. - 2  C 


186 


SOLOX 


with  his  nearest  relations.  Yet  some  say,  this  law  was  very 
properly  levelled  against  those,  who,  conscious  of  their  own 
inability,  match  with  heiresses  for  the  sake  of  the  portion,  and, 
under  colour  of  law,  do  violence  to  nature.  For  when  they 
know  that  such  heiresses  may  make  choice  of  others  to  grant 
their  favours  to,  they  will  either  let  those  matches  alone,  or, 
if  they  do  marry  in  that  manner,  they  must  suffer  the  shame 
cf  their  avarice  and  dishonesty.  It  is  right,  that  the  heiress 
should  not  have  liberty  to  choose  at  large,  but  only  amongst 
her  husband’s  relations,  that  the  child  which  is  born  may,  at 
least,  belong  to  his  kindred  and  family.  Agreeable  to  this  is 
the  direction,  that  the  bride  and  bridegroom  should  be  shut  up 
together,  and  eat  of  the  same  quince;*  and  that  the  husband  of 
an  heiress  should  approach  her  at  least  three  times  in  a  month. 
For,  though  they  may  happen  net  to  have  children,  yet  it  is  a 
mark  of  honour  and  regard  due  from  a  man  to  the  chastity  of 
his  wife;  it  removes  many  uneasinesses;  and  prevents  differen¬ 
ces  from  proceeding  to  an  absolute  breach. 

In  all  other  marriages,  he  ordered  that  no  dowries  should  be 
given;  the  bride  was  to  bring  with  her  only  three  suits  of 
clothes,  and  some  household  stuff  of  small  value,  t  For  he  did 
not  choose  that  marriages  should  be  made  with  mercenary  oi 
venal  views,  but  would  have  that  union  cemented  by  the  en 
dearment  of  children,  and  every  other  instance  of  love  and 
friendship.  Nay,  Dionysius  himself,  when  his  mother  desired 
to  be  married  to  a  young  Syracusan,  told  her, — “He  had,  in 
deed,  by  his  tyranny,  broke  through  the  laws  of  his  country, 
but  he  could  not  break  those  of  nature,  by  countenancing  so  dis- 
proportioned  a  match.”  And,  surely,  such  disorders  should 
not  be  tolerated  in  any  state,  nor  such  matches,  where  there  is 
no  equality  of  years,  or  inducements  of  love,  or  probability 
that  the  end  of  marriage  will  be  answered.  So  that  to  an  old 
man  who  marries  a  young  woman,  some  prudent  magistrate  or 
lawgiver  might  express  himself  in  the  words  addressed  to  Phi 
loctetes: — 

Poor  soul!  how  fit  art  thou  to  marry! 

And  if  he  found  a  young  man  in  the  house  of  a  rich  old  wo¬ 
man,  like  a  partridge,  growing  fat  in  his  private  services,  he 
would  remove  him  to  some  young  virgin  who  wanted  a  hus 
band.  But  enough  of  this. 

*  The  eating’ of*  the  quince,  which  was  not  peculiar  to  an  heiress  and  her 
husband  (for  all  new  married  people  ate  it,)  implied  that  their  discourses 
ought  to  be  pleasant  to  each  other,  that  fruit  making  the  breath  sweet. 

|  The  bride  brought  with  her  an  earthen  pan,  called  phrogeteon ,  wherein 
barley  was  parched;  to  signify  that  she  undertook  the  business  of  the  house, 
and  would  do  her  part  towards  providing  for  the  family. 


SOLON. 


18? 


That  law  of  Solon’s  is  also  justly  commended,  which  forbids 
men  to  speak  ill  of  the  dead.  For  piety  requires  us  to  consi¬ 
der  the  deceased  as  sacred;  justice  calls  upon  us  to  spare  those 
that  are  not  in  being;  and  good  policy,  to  prevent  the  per¬ 
petuating  of  hatred.  He  forbade  his  people  also  to  revile  the 
living,  in  a  temple,  in  a  court  of  justice,  in  the  great  assembly 
of  the  people,  or  at  the  public  games.  He  that  offended  in 
this  respect,  was  to  pay  three  drachmas  to  the  person  injured,  and 
two  to  the  public.  Never  to  restrain  anger  is,  indeed,  a  proof 
of  weakness  or  want  of  breeding;  and  always  to  guard  against 
it,  is  very  difficult,  and  to  some  persons  impossible.  Now, 
what  is  enjoined  by  law  should  be  practicable,  if  the  legislator 
desires  to  punish  a  few  to  some  good  purpose,  and  not  many  to 
no  purpose. 

His  law  concerning  wills  has  likewise  its  merit.  For  be¬ 
fore  his  time  the  Athenians  were  not  allowed  to  dispose  of 
their  estates  by  will;  the  houses  and  other  substance  of  the  de¬ 
ceased  were  to  remain  among  his  relations.  But  he  permitted 
any  one,  that  had  not  children,  to  leave  his  possessions  to 
whom  he  pleased;  thus  preferring  the  tie  of  friendship  to  that 
of  kindred,  and  choice  to  necessity,  he  gave  every  man  the 
full  and  free  disposal  of  his  own.  Yet  he  allowed  not  all  sorts 
of  legacies,  but  those  only  that  were  not  extorted  by  phrenzy, 
the  consequence  of  disease  or  poisons,  by  imprisonment  or 
violence,  or  the  persuasions  of  a  wife.  For  he  considered  in¬ 
ducements,  that  operated  against  reason,  as  no  better  than 
force;  to  be  deceived,  was  with  him  the  same  thing  as  to  be 
compelled;  and  he  looked  upon  pleasure  to  be  as  great  a  per- 
verter  as  pain.  * 

He  regulated,  moreover,  the  journeys  of  women,  their 
mournings  and  sacrifices,  and  endeavoured  to  keep  them  clear 
of  all  disorder  and  excess.  They  were  not  to  go  out  of  town 
with  more  than  three  habits;  the  provisions  they  carried  with 
them  were  not  to  exceed  the  value  of  an  ohulus ,  their  basket 
was  not  to  be  above  a  cubit  high;  and  in  the  night  they  were 
not  to  travel  but  in  a  carriage,  with  a  torch  before  them.  At 
funerals,  they  were  forbid  to  tear  themselves,!  and  no  hired 


*  He  likewise  ordained,  that  adopted  persons  should  make  no  will;  but 
as  soon  as  they  had  children  lawfully  begotten,  they  wTere  at  liberty  to  re¬ 
turn  into  the  family  whence  they  were  adopted:  or  if  they  continued  in  it 
to  their  death,  the  estates  reverted  to  the  relations  of  the  persons  who 
adopted  them. — Demost.  in  Or  at.  Lcptin . 

+  Demosthenes  ( 'in  Timocr.J  recites  Solon’s  directions  as  to  funerals  as 
follows: — “Let  the  dead  bodies  be  laid  out  in  the  house  according*  as  the 
deceased  g*ave  order,  and  the  day  following*,  before  sun-rise,  carried  forth. 
Whilst  the  body  is  carrying*  to  the  g*rave,  let  the  men  g*o  before,  the  women 
follow.  It  shall  not  he  lawful  for  any  woman  to  enter  upon  the  goods  of  the 


188 


SOLON. 


mourner  was  to  utter  lamentable  notes,  or  to  act  any  thing  else 
that  tended  to  excite  sorrow.  They  were  not  permitted  to 
sacrifice  an  ox  on  those  occasions;  or  to  bury  more  than  three 
garments  with  the  body;  or  to  visit  any  tombs  beside  those  of 
their  own  family,  except  at  the  time  of  interment.  Most  of 
these  things  are  likewise  forbidden  by  our  laws,  with  the  addi¬ 
tion  of  this  circumstance,  that  those  who  offend  in  such  a  man¬ 
ner,  are  fined  by  the  censors  of  the  women,  as  giving  way  to 
weak  passions  and  childish  sorrow. 

As  the  city  was  filled  with  persons,  who  assembled  from  all 
parts,  on  account  of  the  great  security  in  which  people  lived 
in  Attica,  Solon  observing  this,  and  that  the  country  withal 
was  poor  and  barren,  and  that  merchants  who  traffic  by  sea  do 
not  use  to  import  their  goods  where  they  can  have  nothing  in 
exchange,  turned  the  attention  of  the  citizens  to  manufactures. 
For  this  purpose  he  made  a  law,  that  no  son  should  be  obliged 
to  maintain  his  father,  if  he  had  not  taught  him  a  trade.*  As 
for  Lycurgus,  whose  city  was  clear  of  strangers,  and  whose 
country,  according  to  Euripides,  was  sufficient  for  twice  the 
number  of  inhabitants;  where  there  was,  moreover,  a  multi 
tude  of  Helotes ,  who  were  not  only  to  be  kept  constantly  em 
ployed,  but  to  be  humbled  and  worn  out  by  servitude,  it  was 
right  for  him  to  set  the  citizens  free  from  laborious  and  me 
chanic  arts,  and  to  employ  them  in  arms,  as  the  only  art  fit 
for  them  to  learn  and  exercise.  But  Solon,  rather  adapting 
his  laws  to  the  state  of  his  country,  than  his  country  to  his 
laws,  and  perceiving  that  the  soil  of  Attica,  which  hardly  re¬ 
warded  the  husbandman’s  labour,  was  far  from  being  capable 
of  maintaining  a  lazy  multitude,  ordered  that  trades  should 
be  accounted  honourable;  that  the  council  of  the  areopagus 
should  examine  into  every  man’s  means  of  subsisting,  and 
chastise  the  idle. 

But  that  law  was  more  rigid,  which,  (as  Heraclides  of  Poti- 
tus  informs  us)  excused  bastards  from  relieving  their  fathers. 
Nevertheless,  the  man  that  disregards  so  honourable  a  state  as 
marriage,  does  not  take  a  woman  for  the  sake  of  children,  but 
merely  to  indulge  his  appetite.  He  has  therefore  his  rewards; 
and  there  remains  no  pretence  for  him  to  upbraid  those  chil¬ 
dren,  w7hose  very  birth  he  has  made  a  reproach  to  them. 

In  truth,  his  laws  concerning  women,  in  general,  appear 

dead,  and  to  follow  the  body  to  the  gTave  under  threescore  years  of  ag*e, 
except  such  as  are  within  the  degrees  of  cousins/’ 

#  He  that  was  thrice  convicted  of  idleness  was  to  be  declared  infamous. 
Herodotus  (1.  vii.)  and  Diodorus  Siculus  (1.  i.)  agTee  that  a  law  of  this 
kind  was  in  use  in  Egypt.  It  is  probable,  therefore,  that  Solon,  who  was 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  learning  of  that  nation,  borrowed  it  from 
them. 


SOLON. 


18v 


very  absurd;  for  he  permitted  any  one  to  kill  an  adulterer 
taken  in  the  fact;*  but  if  a  man  committed  a  rape  upon  a  free 
woman,  he  was  only  to  be  fined  a  hundred  drachmas;  if  he 
gained  his  purpose  by  persuasion,  twenty;  but  prostitutes  were 
excepted,  because  they  have  their  price.  And  he  would  not 
allow  them  to  sell  a  daughter  or  sister,  unless  she  were  taken 
in  an  act  of  dishonour  before  marriage.  But  to  punish  the 
same  fault  sometimes  in  a  severe  and  rigorous  manner,  and 
sometimes  lightly  and  as  it  were  in  sport,  with  a  trivial  fine,  is 
not  agreeable  to  reason,  unless  the  scarcity  of  money  in  Athens 
at  that  time,  made  a  pecuniary  mulct  a  heavy  one.  And,  in¬ 
deed,  in  the  valuation  of  things  for  the  sacrifice,  a  sheep  and  a 
medimnus  of  corn  were  reckoned  each  at  a  drachma  only.  To 
the  victor  in  the  Isthmian  games,  he  appointed  a  reward  of  a 
hundred  drachmas ;  and  to  the  victor  in  the  Olympian,  five  hun¬ 
dred.!  He  that  caught  a  he-wolf,  was  to  have  five  drachmas ; 
he  that  took  a  she-wolf,  one:  and  the  former  sum  (as  Demetri 
us  Phalereus  asserts)  was  the  value  of  an  ox,  the  latter  of  a 
sheep.  Though  the  prices  which  he  fixes,  in  his  sixteenth  ta¬ 
ble,  for  select  victims,  were  probably  much  higher  than  the 
common,  yet  they  are  small  in  comparison  of  the  present. 
The  Athenians  of  old  were  great  enemies  to  wolves,  because 
their  country  was  better  for  pasture  than  tillage;  and  some  say 
their  tribes  had  not  their  names  from  the  sons  of  Ion,  but  from 
the  different  occupations  they  followed;  the  soldiers  being  call¬ 
ed  hoplitse ,  the  artificers  ergades ;  and  of  the  other  two  the  hus¬ 
bandmen  teleontes ,  and  the  graziers  segicorcs. 

As  Attica  was  not  supplied  with  water  from  perennial  rivers, 
lakes,  or  springs,!  but  chiefly  by  wells  dug  for  that  purpose, 
he  made  a  law,  that  where  there  was  a  public  well,  all  within 
the  distance  of  four  furlongs  should  make  use  of  it;  but  where 
the  distance  was  greater,  they  were  to  provide  a  well  of  their 
own.  And  if  they  dug  ten  fathoms  deep  in  their  own  ground, 
and  could  find  no  water,  they  had  liberty  to  fill  a  vessel  of 
six  gallons  twice  a  day  at  their  neighbour’s.  Thus  he  thought 
it  proper  to  assist  persons  in  real  necessity,  but  not  to  encour¬ 
age  idleness.  His  regulations  with  respect  to  the  planting  of 


*  No  adulteress  was  to  adorn  herself,  or  to  assist  at  the  public  sacrifices, 
and  in  case  she  did,  he  gave  liberty  to  any  one  to  tear  her  clothes  off'  her 
back,  and  beat  her  into  the  bargain. 

f  At  the  same  time  he  contracted  the  rewards  bestowed  upon  wrestlers, 
esteeming  such  gratuities  useless,  and  even  dangerous;  as  they  tended  to 
encourage  idleness,  by  putting  men  upon  wasting  that  time  in  exercises, 
which  ought  to  be  spent  in  providing  for  their  families. 

+  Strabo  tells  us  there  was  a  spring  of  fresh  water  near  the  Lycaeum;  buJ 
the  soil  of  Attica  in  general  was  dry,  and  the  rivers  Ilissus  and  Eridamus 
did  not  run  constantly. 


18 


190 


SOLON. 


trees  were  also  very  judicious.  He  that  planted  any  tree  in 
his  field,  was  to  place  it  at  least  five  feet  from  his  neighbour’s 
ground;  and  if  it  was  a  fig-tree  or  an  olive,  nine;  for  these  ex¬ 
tend  their  roots  farther  than  others,  and  their  neighbourhood 
is  prejudicial  to  some  trees,  not  only  as  they  take  away  the 
nourishment,  but  as  their  effluvia  is  noxious.  He  that  wou.d 
dig  a  pit  or  a  ditch,  was  to  dig  it  as  far  from  another  man’s 
ground  as  it  was  deep;  and  if  any  one  would  raise  stocks  of 
bees,  he  was  to  place  them  three  hundred  feet  from  those  al¬ 
ready  raised  by  another. 

Of  all  the  products  of  the  earth,  he  allowed  none  to  be  sold 
to  strangers  but  oil;  and  whoever  presumed  to  export  any 
thing  else,  the  archon  was  solemnly  to  declare  him  accursed, 
or  to  pay  himself  a  hundred  drachmas  into  the  public  treasury. 
This  law  is  in  the  first  table.  And  therefore  it  is  not  abso¬ 
lutely  improbable,  what  some  affirm,  that  the  exportation  of 
figs  was  formerly  forbidden,  and  that  the  informer  against  the 
delinquents  was  called  a  sycophant. 

He  likewise  enacted  a  law  for  reparation  of  damage  received 
from  beasts.  A  dog  that  had  bit  a  man  was  to  be  delivered 
up  bound  to  a  log  of  four  cubits  long;*  an  agreeable  contri 
vance  for  security  against  such  an  animal. 

But  the  wisdom  of  the  law  concerning  the  naturalizing  of 
foreigners  is  a  little  dubious;  because  it  forbids  the  freedom  of 
the  city  to  be  granted  to  any  but  such  as  are  forever  exiled 
from  their  own  country,  or  transplant  themselves  to  Athens 
with  their  whole  family,  for  the  sake  of  exercising  some  ma¬ 
nual  trade.  This,  we  are  told,  he  did,  not  with  a  view  to  keep 
strangers  at  a  distance,  but  rather  to  invite  them  to  Athens, 
upon  the  sure  hope  of  being  admitted  to  the  privilege  of  citi¬ 
zens;  and  he  imagined  the  settlement  of  those  might  be  entire¬ 
ly  depended  upon,  who  had  been  driven  from  their  native 
country,  or  had  quitted  it  by  choice. 

That  law  is  peculiar  to  Solon,  which  regulates  the  going  to 
entertainments  made  at  the  public  charge,  by  him  called  para - 
sitein. t  For  he  does  not  allow  the  same  person  to  repair  to 

*  This  law,  and  several  others  of  Solon,  were  taken  into  the  twelve  Loles. 
In  the  consulate  of  T.  Romilius  and  C.  Veturius,  in  the  year  of  Rome,  293, 
the  Romans  sent  deputies  to  Athens,  to  transcribe  his  laws,  and  those  of 
the  other  lawgivers  of  Greece,  in  order  to  form  thereby  a  body  of  laws  for 
Rome. 

■f  In  the  first  ages  the  name  of  parasite  was  venerable  and  sacred,  for  it 
properly  signified  one  that  was  a  messmate  at  the  table  of  sacrifices.  There 
were  in  Greece  several  persons  particularly  honoured  with  this  title,  much 
like  those  whom  the  Romans  called  epulones ,  a  religious  order  instituted  by 
Numa.  Solon  ordained  that  every  tribe  should  offer  a  sacrifice  once  a  month, 
and  at  the  end  of  the  sacrifice  make  a  public  entertainmert,  at  nhich  all 
*vho  wsre  of  that  tribe  should  be  obliged  to  assist  by  turns. 


SOLON. 


191 


them  often;  and  he  lays  a  penalty  upon  such  as  refuse  to  gc 
when  invited;  looking  upon  the  former  as  a  mark  of  epicurism, 
and  the  latter  of  contempt  of  the  public. 

All  his  laws  were  to  continue  in  force  for  a  hundred  years, 
and  were  written  upon  wooden  tables,  which  might  be  turned 
round  in  the  oblong  cases  that  contained  them.  Some  small 
remains  of  them  are  preserved  in  the  Prytanium  to  this  day. 
They  were  called  cyrbes ,  as  Aristotle  tells  us;  and  C  rati  nits  the 
comic  poet,  thus  spoke  of  them: — 

By  the  great  names  of  Solon  and  of  Draco, 

Whose  cyrbes  now  but  serve  to  boil  our  pulse. 

Some  say,  those  tables  were  properly  called  cyrbes ,  on  which 
were  written  the  rules  for  religious  rites  and  sacrifices,  and  the 
other  axones,  The  senate,  in  a  body,  bound  themselves  by 
oath  to  establish  the  laws  of  Solon;  and  the  thesmothetse ,  or 
guardians  of  the  laws,  severally  took  an  oath  in  a  particular 
form,  by  the  stone  in  the  market-place,  that  for  every  law  they 
broke,  each  would  dedicate  a  golden  statue  at  Delphi  of  the 
same  weight  with  himself.* 

Observing  the  irregularity  of  the  months,!  and  that  the  moon 
neither  rose  nor  set  at  the  same  time  with  the  sun,  as  it  often 
happened  that  in  the  same  day  she  overtook  and  passed  by 
him,  he  ordered  that  the  day  be  called  hene  kai  nea  (the  old 
and  the  new;)  assigning  the  part  of  it  before  the  conjunction 
to  the  old  month,  and  the  rest  to  the  beginning  of  the  new 
He  seems,  therefore,  to  have  been  the  first  who  understood 

*  Gold,  in  Solon’s  time,  was  so  scarce  in  Greece,  that  when  the  Spartans 
were  ordered  by  the  oracle  to  gild  the  face  of  Apollo’s  statue,  they  inquir¬ 
ed  in  vain  for  gold  all  over  Greece,  and  were  directed  by  the  pythoness  to 
buy  some  of  Croesus,  king*  of  Lydia. 

f  Solon  discovered  the  falseness  of  Thales’s  maxim,  that  the  moon  pel 
formed  her  revolution  in  thirty  days,  and  found  that  the  true  time  was  twen¬ 
ty-nine  days  and  a  half.  He  directed,  therefore,  that  each  of  the  twelve 
months  should  be  accounted  twenty-nine  or  thirty  days  alternately.  By 
this  means  a  lunar  year  was  formed  of  354  days;  and  to  reconcile  it  to  the 
solar  year,  he  ordered  a  month  of  twenty-two  days  to  be  intercalated  every 
two  years,  and  at  the  end  of  the  second  two  years,  he  directed  that  a  month 
of  twenty-three  days  should  be  intercalated.  He  likewise  engaged  the 
Athenians  to  divide  their  months  into  three  parts,  s/y'.ed  the  beginning, 
tnid:lle,  and  ending;  each  of  these  consisted  of  ten  days,  when  the  monlh 
.  was  thirty  days  long,  and  the  last  of  nine,  when  it  was  nine-and-twenty  days 
long.  In  speaking  of  the  two  first  parts,  they  reckoned  according  to  the 
usual  order  of  numbers,  viz .  the  first,  &c.  day  of  the  moon,  beginning;  tne 
first,  second,  &c.  of  the  moon,  middle;  but  with  respect  to  the  last  part  o; 
the  month,  they  reckoned  backwards,  that  is,  instead  of  saying,  the  first, 
second,  &c.  day  of  the  moon,  ending,  they  said,  the  tenth,  ninth,  &c.  ol 
the  moon,  ending.  This  is  a  circumstance  which  should  be  carefully  attend, 
ed  to. 


SOLON. 


J9  i 

that  verse  in  Homer,  which  makes  mention  of  a  day  wherein 
<  the  old  month  ended,  and  the  new  began. 

The  day  following  he  called  the  new  moon.  After  the  twen¬ 
tieth  he  counted  not  by  adding,  but  subtracting,  to  the  thirti¬ 
eth,  according  to  the  decreasing  phases  of  the  moon. 

When  his  laws  took  place  ;t  Solon  had  his  visiters  every  day, 
finding  fault  with  some  of  them,  and  commending  others,  or 
advising  him  to  make  certain  additions  or  retrenchments.  But 
the  greater  part  came  to  desire  a  reason  for  this  or  that  article* 
or  a  clear  and  precise  explication  of  the  meaning  and  design 
Sensible  that  he  could  not  well  excuse  himself  from  comply 
ing  with  their  desires,  and  that  if  he  indulged  their  importu 
nity,  the  doing  it  might  give  offence,  he  determined  to  with¬ 
draw  from  the  difficulty,  and  to  get  rid  at  once  of  their  cavil? 
and  exceptions;  for,  as  he  himself  observes, 

Not  all  the  greatest  enterprise  can  please. 

Under  pretence  therefore  of  traffic,  he  set  sail  for  another 
country,  having  obtained  leave  of  the  Athenians  for  ten  years 
absence.  In  that  time  he  hoped  his  laws  would  become  fami¬ 
liar  to  them. 

His  first  voyage  was  to  Egypt,  where  he  abode  some  time, 
as  he  himself  relates, 

On  the  Canopian  shore,  by  Nile’s  deep  mouth. 

There  he  conversed  upon  points  of  philosophy,  with  Pseno 
phis  the  Heliopolitan,  and  Senchis  the  SaTte,  the  most  learned 
of  the  Egyptian  priests;  and  having  an  account  from  them  of 

*  Odyss.  xiv.  162. 

-j-  Plutarch  has  only  mentioned  such  of  Solon’s  laws  as  he  thought  the 
most  singular  and  remarkable:  Diogenes  Laertius,  and  Demosthenes  have 
given  us  an  account  of  some  others  that  ought  not  to  be  forgotten: — “Let 
not  the  guardian  live  in  the  same  house  with  the  mother  of  his  wards.  Let 
not  the  tuition  of  minors  be  committed  to  him  who  is  next  after  them  in  the 
inheritance.  Let  not  an  engraver  keep  the  impression  of  a  seal  which  he 
has  engraved.  Let  him  that  puts  out  the  eye  of  a  man  who  has  but  one, 
lose  both  his  own.  If  an  archon  is  taken  in  liquor,  let  him  be  put  to  death. 
Let  him  who  refuses  to  maintain  his  father  and  mother,  be  infamous;  and  so 
let  him  that  has  consumed  his  patrimony.  Let  him  who  refuses  to  go  to 
war,  flies,  or  behaves  cowardly,  be  debarred  the  precincts  of  the  forum , 
and  places  of  public  worship.  If  a  man  surprises  his  wife  in  adultery,  and 
lives  with  her  afterwards,  let  him  be  deemed  infamous.  Let  him  who 
frequents  the  houses  of  lewd  women,  be  debarred  from  speaking  in  the 
assemblies  of  the  people.  Let  a  pander  be  pursued,  and  put  to  death  if 
taken.  If  any  man  steal  in  the  day-time,  let  him  be  carried  to  the  eleven 
officers:  if  in  the  night,  it  shall  be  lawful  to  kill  him  in  the  act,  or  to  wound 
him  in  the  pursuit,  and  carry  him  to  the  aforesaid  officers;  if  he  steals  com¬ 
mon  things,  let  him  pay  double,  and,  if  the  convictor  thinks  fit,  be  exposed 
in  chains  five  days;  if  he  be  guilty  of  sacrilege,  let  him  be  put  to  death.” 


SOLON. 


195 


the  Atlantic  Island,*  (as  Plato  informs  us)  he  attempted  to  de¬ 
scribe  it  to  the  Grecians  in  a  poem.  From  Egypt  he  sailed 
to  Cyprus,  and  there  was  honoured  with  the  best  regards  of 
Philocyprus,  one  of  the  kings  of  that  island,  who  reigned  over 
a  small  city  built  by  Demophon,  the  son  of  Theseus,  near  the 
rivei*  Clarius,  in  a  strong  situation  indeed,  but  very  indifferent 
soil.  As  there  was  an  agreeable  plain  below,  Solon  pursuaded 
him  to  build  a  larger  and  pleasanter  city  there,  and  to  remove 
the  inhabitants  of  the  other  to  it.  He  also  assisted  in  laying 
out  the  whole,  and  building  it  in  the  best  manner  for  conve¬ 
nience  and  defence;  so  that  Philocyprus  in  a  short  time  had  it 
so  well  peopled,  as  to  excite  the  envy  of  the  other  princes. 
And  therefore,  though  the  former  city  was  called  Aipeia ,  yet, 
in  honour  of  Solon,  he  called  the  new  one  Soli.  He  himself 
speaks  of  the  building  of  this  city,  in  his  Elegies,  addressing 
himself  to  Philocyprus: — 

For  you  be  long  the  Solian  throne  decreed! 

For  you  a  race  of  prosperous  sons  succeed! 

If  in  those  scenes  to  her  so  justly  dear. 

My  hand  a  blooming  city  help’d  to  rear, 

May  the  sweet  voice  of  smiling  Venus  bless. 

And  speed  me  home  with  honours  and  success! 

As  for  his  interview  with  Croesus,  some  pretend  to  prove 
from  chronology  that  it  is  fictitious.  But  since  the  story  is  so 
famous,  and  so  well  attested,  nay  (what  is  more)  so  agreeable 
to  Solon’s  character,  so  worthy  of  his  wisdom  and  magna¬ 
nimity,  I  can  not  prevail  with  myself  to  reject  it  for  the  sake  of 
certain  chronological  tables,  which  thousands  are  correcting  to 
this  day,  without  being  able  to  bring  them  to  any  certainty. 
Solon,  then,  is  said  to  have  gone  to  Sardis,  at  the  request  of 
Croesus;  and  when  he  came  there,  he  was  affected  much  in  the 
same  manner  as  a  person  born  in  an  inland  country,  when  he 
first  goes  to  see  the  ocean;  for  as  he  takes  every  great  river  he 

*  Plato  finished  this  history  from  Solon’s  memoirs,  as  may  be  seen  in  his 
Timscus  and  Critias.  He  pretends,  that  this  Atlantis,  an  island  situated  in 
the  Atlantic  ocean,  was  bigger  than  Asia  and  Africa:  and  that,  notwithstand 
ing  its  vast  extent,  it  was  drowned  in  one  day  and  night.  Diodorus  Siculus 
says,  the  Carthaginians,  who  discovered  it,  made  it  death  for  any  one  to  set¬ 
tle  in  it.  Amidst  a  number  of  conjectures  concerning  it,  one  of  the  most 
probable  is,  that  in  those  days  the  Africans  had  some  knowledge  of  America, 
Another  opinion  worth  mentioning  is,  that  the  Atlantides,  or  Fortunate  islands 
were  what  we  now  call  the  Canahes.  Homer  thus  describes  them: — 

Stern  winter  smiles  on  that  auspicious  clime : 

The  fields  are  florid  with  unfading  prime. 

From  the  bleak  pole  no  winds  inclement  blow. 

Mould  the  round  hail,  or  flake  the  fleecy  snow: 

But  from  the  breezy  deep  the  blest  inhale 
The  fragrant  murmurs  of  the  western  gale. 
ol.  i. - 2D  18* 


1*0  PF 


194 


SOLON. 


comes  to  for  the  sea,  so  Solon,  as  he  passed  through  the  couit. 
and  saw  many  of  the  nobility  richly  dressed,  and  walking  in 
great  pomp  amidst  a  crowd  of  attendants  and  guards,  took 
each  of  them  for  Croesus.  At  last,  when  he  was  conducted 
into  the  presence,  he  found  the  king  set  off  with  whatever  can 
be  imagined  curious  and  valuable,  either  in  beauty  of  colours, 
elegance  of  golden  ornaments,  or  splendour  of  jewels;  in  or¬ 
der  that  the  grandeur  and  variety  of  the  scene  might  be  as 
striking  as  possible.  Solon,  standing  over  against  the  throne, 
was  not  at  all  surprised,  nor  did  he  pay  those  compliments 
that  were  expected;  on  the  contrary,  it  was  plain  to  all  persons 
of  discernment,  that  he  despised  such  vain  ostentation  and  lit¬ 
tleness  of  pride.  Croesus  then  ordered  his  treasures  to  be 
opened,  and  his  magnificent  apartments  and  furniture  to  be 
shown  him;  but  this  was  quite  a  needless  trouble;  for  Solon, 
in  one  view  of  the  king,  was  able  to  read  his  character.  When 
he  had  seen  all,  and  was  conducted  back,  Croesus  asked  him, 
“If  he  had  ever  beheld  a  happier  man  than  he?”  Solon  an¬ 
swered, — “He  had;  and  that  the  person  was  one  Tellus,  a 
plain  but  worthy  citizen  of  Athens,  who  left  valuable  children 
behind  him;  and  who  having  been  above  the  want  of  neces¬ 
saries  all  his  life,  died  gloriously  fighting  for  his  country.” 
By  this  time  he  appeared  to  Croesus  to  be  a  strange,  uncouth 
kind  of  rustic,  who  did  not  measure  happiness  by  the  quantity 
of  gold  and  silver,  but  could  prefer  the  life  and  death  of  a  pri¬ 
vate  and  mean  person,  to  his  high  dignity  and  power.  How¬ 
ever,  he  asked  him  again, — “Whether  after  Tellus,  he  knew 
another  happier  man  in  the  world?”  Solon  answered, — “  yes, 
Cleobis  and  Biton,  famed  for  their  brotherly  affection,  and 
dutiful  behaviour  to  their  mother;  for  the  oxen  not  being 
ready,  they  put  themselves  in  the  harness,  and  drew  their 
mother  to  Juno’s  temple,  who  was  extremely  happy  in  hav¬ 
ing  such  sons,  and  moved  forward  amidst  the  blessings  of  the 
people.  After  the  sacrifice,  they  drank  a  cheerful  cup  with 
their  friends,  and  then  laid  down  to  rest,  but  rose  no  more; 
for  they  died  in  the  night  without  sorrow  or  pain,  in  the 
midst  of  so  much  glory.”  “  Well!”  said  Croesus,  now  highly 
displeased,  “and  do  you  not  then  rank  us  in  the  number  of  hap¬ 
py  men!”  Solon,  unwillingeither  to  flatter  him,  or  to  exasperate 
him  more,  replied, — “  King  of  Lydia,  as  God  has  given  the 
Greeks  a  moderate  proportion  of  other  things,  so  likewise  he 
has  favoured  them  with  a  democratic  spirit,  and  a  liberal  kind 
of  wisdom,  which  has  no  taste  for  the  splendours  of  royalty. 
Moreover,  the  vicissitudes  of  life  suffer  us  not  to  be  elated  by 
any  present  good  fortune,  or  to  admire  that  felicity  which  is 
liable  to  change.  Futurity  carries  for  every  man  many  vari¬ 
ous  and  uncertain  events  in  its  bosom.  He,  therefore,  whom 


SOLON. 


195 


heaven  blesses  with  success  to  the  last,  is  in  our  estimation  the 
happy  man.  But  the  happiness  of  him  who  still  lives,  and 
has  the  dangers  of  life  to  encounter,  appears  to  us  no  better 
than  that  of  a  champion,  before  the  combat  is  determined,  and 
while  the  crown  is  uncertain/5  With  these  words  Solon  de¬ 
parted,  leaving  Croesus  chagrined,  but  not  instructed. 

At  that  time  JEsop  the  fabulist  was  at  the  court  of  Croesus, 
who  had  sent  for  him,  and  caressed  him  not  a  little.  He  was 
concerned  at  the  unkind  reception  Solon  met  with,  and  there¬ 
upon  gave  him  this  advice, — UA  man  should  either  not  con¬ 
verse  with  kings  at  all,  or  say  what  is  agreeable  to  them/5  To 
which  Solon  replied, — “  Nay,  but  he  should  either  not  do  it 
at  all,  or  say  what  is  useful  to  them/5 

Though  Croesus  at  that  time  held  our  lawgiver  in  contempt, 
yet  when  he  was  defeated  in  his  wars  with  Cyrus,  when  his 
city  was  taken,  himself  made  prisoner,  and  laid  bound  upon 
the  pile,  in  order  to  be  burnt,  in  the  presence  of  Cyrus,  and 
all  the  Persians,  he  cried  out  as  loud  as  he  possibly  could, — 
“  Solon!  Solon!  Solon!55  Cyrirs,  surprised  at  this,  sent  to  in¬ 
quire  of  him, — “  What  god  or  man  it  was,  whom  alone  he  thus 
invoked  under  so  great  a  calamity?55  Croesus  answered,  with 
out  the  least  disguise, — “  He  is  one  of  the  wise  men  of  Greece, 
whom  I  sent  for,  not  with  a  design  to  hear  his  wisdom,  or  to 
learn  what  might  be  of  service  to  me,  but  that  he  might  see 
and  extend  the  reputation  of  that  glory,  the  loss  of  which  I 
find  a  much  greater  misfortune  than  the  possession  of  it  was  a 
blessing.  My  exalted  state  was  only  an  exterior  advantage, 
the  happiness  of  opinion;  but  the  reverse  plunges  me  into  real 
sufferings,  and  ends  in  misery  irremediable.  This  was  fore¬ 
seen  by  that  great  man,  who,  forming  a  conjecture  of  the  fu¬ 
ture  from  what  he  then  saw,  advised  me  to  consider  the  end 
of  life,  and  not  to  rely  or  grow  insolent  upon  uncertainties/' 
When  this  was  told  Cyrus,  who  was  a  much  wiser  man  than 
Croesus,  finding  Solon’s  maxim  confirmed  by  an  example  be¬ 
fore  him,  he  not  only  set  Croesus  at  liberty,  but  honoured  him 
with  his  protection  as  long  as  he  lived.  Thus  Solon  had  the 
glory  of  saving  the  life  of  one  of  these  kings,  and  of  instruct¬ 
ing  the  other. 

During  his  absence,  the  Athenians  were  much  divided 
among  themselves,  Lycurgus  being  at  the  head  of  the  low 
country,*  Megacles,  the  son  of  Alcmseon,  of  the  people  that 
lived  near  the  sea-coast,  and  Pisistratus  of  the  mountaineers, 
among  which  last  was  a  multitude  of  labouring  people,  whose 
enmity  was  chiefly  levelled  at  the  rich.  Hence  it  was,  that 

*  These  three  parties  into  which  the  Athenians  were  divided,  viz.  the  Pedaei, 
tlie  Paiali,  and  Diacrh,  have  been  mentioned  in  this  life  before. 


L96 


SOLOX. 


though  the  city  did  observe  Solon’s  laws,  yet  all  expected 
some  change,  and  were  desirous  of  another  establishment; 
not  in  hopes  of  an  equality,  but  with  a  view  to  be  gainers  by 
the  alteration,  and  entirely  to  subdue  those  that  differed  from 
them. 

While  matters  stood  thus,  Solon  arrived  at  Athens,  where 
he  was  received  with  great  respect,  and  still  held  in  veneration 
by  all;  but,  by  reason  of  his  great  age,  he  had  neither  the 
strength  nor  spirit  to  act  or  speak  in  public  as  he  had  done. 
He,  therefore,  applied  in  private  to  the  heads  of  the  factions, 
and  endeavoured  to  appease  and  reconcile  them.  Pisistratus 
seemed  to  give  him  greater  attention  than  the  rest;  for  Pisis- 
tratus  had  an  affable  and  engaging  manner.  He  was  a  liberal 
benefactor  to  the  poor;*  and  even  to  his  enemies  he  behaved 
with  great  candour.  He  counterfeited  so  dexterously  the 
good  qualities  which  nature  had  denied  him,  that  he  gained 
more  credit  than  the  real  possessors  of  them,  and  stood  fore* 
most  in  the  public  esteem,  in  point  of  moderation  and  equity, 
in  zeal  for  the  present  government,  and  aversion  to  all  that 
endeavoured  at  a  change.  With  these  arts  he  imposed  upon 
the  people;  but  Solon  soon  discovered  his  real  character,  and 
was  the  first  to  discern  his  insidious  designs.  Yet  he  did  not 
absolutely  break  with  him,  but  endeavoured  to  soften  him,  and 
advise  him  better;  declaring  both  to  him  and  others,  that  if 
ambition  could  but  be  banished  from  his  soul,  and  he  could  be 
cured  of  his  desire  of  absolute  power,  there  would  not  be  a 
man  better  disposed,  or  a  more  worthy  citizen  in  Athens. 

About  this  time,  Thespis  began  to  change  the  form  of 
tragedy,  and  the  novelty  of  the  thing  attracted  many  specta¬ 
tors;  for  this  was  before  any  prize  was  proposed  for  those  that 
excelled  in  this  respect.  Solon,  who  was  always  willing  to 
hear  and  to  learn,  and  in  his  old  age  more  inclined  to  any 
thing  that  might  divert  and  entertain,  particularly  to  music 
and  good  fellowship,  went  to  see  Thespis  himself  exhibit,  as 
the  custom  of  the  ancient  poets  was.  When  the  play  was  done, 
he  called  to  Thespis,  and  asked  him, — 66  If  he  was  not  asham¬ 
ed  to  tell  so  many  lies  before  so  great  an  assembly?”  Thespis 
answered, — u  It  was  no  great  matter,  if  he  spoke  or  acted  sc 
in  jest.”  To  which  Solon  replied,  striking  the  ground  vio- 
lentlv  with  his  staff, — “  If  we  encourage  such  jesting  as  this, 
we  shall  quickly  find  it  in  our  contracts  and  agreements.” 

*  By  the  poor  we  are  not  to  understand  such  as  asked  alms,  for  there 
were  none  such  at  Athens. — “  In  those  days,”  says  Isocrates,  “  there  was  no 
citizen  that  died  of  want,  or  begged  in  the  streets,  to  the  dishonour  of  the 
community.”  This  was  owing  to  the  laws  against  idleness  and  prodigality, 
and  the  care  which  the  areopagus  took  that  every  man  should  have  a  visible 
livelihood. 


SOLON. 


197 


koon  after  this,  Pisistratus,  having  wounded  himself  for  the 
purpose,  drove  in  that  condition  into  the  market-place,  and 
endeavoured  to  inflame  the  minds  of  the  people,  by  telling 
them  his  enemies  had  laid  in  wait  for  him,  and  treated  him  in 
that  manner  on  account  of  his  patriotism.  Upon  this  the  mul¬ 
titude  loudly  expressed  their  indignation;  but  Solon  came  up, 
and  thus  accosted  him: — 66  Son  of  Hippocrates,  you  act  Ho¬ 
mer’s  Ulysses  but  very  indifferently;  tor  he  wounded  himself 
to  deceive  his  enemies,  but  you  have  done  it  to  impose  upon 
your  countrymen.”  Notwithstanding  this,  the  rabble  were 
ready  to  take  up  arms  for  him;  and  a  general  assembly  of  the 
people  being  summoned,  Ariston  made  a  motion  that  a  body¬ 
guard  of  fifty  clubmen  should  be  assigned  him.  Solon  stood 
up  and  opposed  it  with  many  arguments,  of  the  same  kind 
with  those  he  has  left  us  in  his  poems: — 

You  hang1  with  rapture  on  his  honey’d  tongue. 

And  again, — 

Your  art,  to  public  interest  ever  blind. 

Your  fox-like  art  still  centres  in  yourself. 

But  when  he  saw  the  poor  behave  in  a  riotous  manner,  anu 
determined  to  gratify  Pisistratus  at  any  rate,  while  the  rich, 
out  of  fear,  declined  the  opposition,  he  retired  with  this  de¬ 
claration,  that  he  had  shown  more  wisdom  than  the  former,  in 
discerning  what  method  should  have  been  taken;  and  more 
courage  than  the  latter,  who  did  not  want  understanding,  but 
spirit  to  oppose  the  establishment  of  a  tyrant.  The  people 
having  made  the  decree,  did  not  curiously  inquire  into  the 
number  of  guards  which  Pisistratus  employed,  but  visibly  con¬ 
nived  at  his  keeping  as  many  as  he  pleased,  till  he  seized  the 
citadel.  When  this  was  done,  and  the  city  in  great  confusion, 
Megacles,  with  the  rest  of  the  Alcmseonidae,  immediately  took 
to  flight.  But  Solon  though  he  was  now  very  old,  and  had 
none  to  second  him,  appeared  in  public,  and  addressed  him¬ 
self  to  the  citizens,  sometimes  upbraiding  them  with  their  past 
indiscretion  and  cowardice,  sometimes  exhorting  and  encou¬ 
raging  them  to  stand  up  for  their  liberty.  Then  it  was  that 
he  spoke  those  memorable  words, — “  It  would  have  been  easier 
for  them  to  repress  the  advances  of  tyranny,  and  prevent  its 
establishment;  but  now  it  was  established,  and  grown  to  some 
height,  it  would  be  more  glorious  to  demolish  it.”  However, 
finding  that  their  faars  prevented  their  attention  to  what  he 
said,  he  returned  to  his  own  house,  and  placed  his  weapons  at 
the  street  door,  with  these  words, — “I  have  done  all  in  my 
power  to  defend  my  country  and  its  laws.”  This  was  his  last 


198 


SOLON. 


public  effort.  Though  some  exhorted  him  to  fly,  he  tools  no 
notice  of  their  advice,  but  was  composed  enough  to  make 
verses,  in  which  he  thus  reproaches  the  Athenians: — 

If  fear  or  folly  has  your  rights  betray’d. 

Let  not  the  fault  on  righteous  heav’n  be  laid; 

You  gave  them  guards,  you  rais’d  your  tyrants  high, 

T’  impose  the  heavy  yoke  that  draws  the  heaving  sigh. 

Many  of  his  friends,  alarmed  at  this,  told  him  the  tyrant 
would  certainly  put  him  to  death  for  it,  and  asked  him  what 
he  trusted  to,  that  he  went  such  imprudent  lengths?  He  an¬ 
swered, — “To  old  age.”  However,  when  Pisistratus  had 
fully  established  himself,  he  made  his  court  to  Solon,  and 
treated  him  with  so  much  kindness  and  respect,  that  Solon  be¬ 
came  as  it  were  his  counsellor,  and  gave  sanction  to  many  of 
his  proceedings.  He  observed  the  greatest  part  of  Solon’s 
laws,  showing  himself  the  example,  and  obliging  his  friends 
to  follow  it.  Thus,  when  he  was  accused  of  murder  before 
the  court  of  areopagus ,  he  appeared  in  a  modest  manner  to  make 
his  defence;  but  his  accuser  dropped  the  impeachment.  He 
likewise  added  other  laws,  one  of  which  was,  that  “  persons 
maimed  in  the  wars  should  be  maintained  at  the  public  charge.” 
Yet  this,  Heraclides  tells  us,  was  in  pursuance  of  Solon’s  plan, 
who  had  decreed  the  same  in  the  case  of  Thersippus.  But, 
according  to  Theophrastus,  Pisistratus,  not  Solon,  made  the 
law  against  idleness,  which  produced  at  once  greater  industry 
in  the  country,  and  tranquillity  in  the  city. 

Solon,  moreover,  attempted  in  verse  a  large  description,  or 
rather  fabulous  account  of  the  Atlantic  island,*  which  he  had 
learned  of  the  wise  men  of  Sais,  and  which  particularly  con¬ 
cerned  the  Athenians;  but  by  reason  of  his  age,  not  want  of 
leisure  (as  Plato  would  have  it),  he  was  apprehensive  the  work 
would  be  too  much  for  him,  and  therefore  did  not  go  through 
v.ith  it.  These  verses  are  a  proof  that  business  was  not  the 
hindrance: — 

I  grow  in  learning  as  I  grow  in  years. 

A  nd  again: — 

Wine,  wit,  and  beauty  still  their  charms  bestow, 

Light  all  the  shades  of  life,  and  cheer  us  as  we  go, 

Plato,  ambitious  to  cultivate  and  adorn  the  subject  of  the  At¬ 
lantic  island,  as  a  delightful  spot  in  some  fair  field  unoccupied, 

*  This  fable  imported,  that  the  people  of  Atlantis,  having  subdued  all  Lybia 
and  a  great  part  of  Europe,  threatened  Egypt  and  Greece;  but  the  Athenians 
making  head  against  their  victorious  army,  overthrew  them  in  several  en¬ 
gagements,  and  confined  them  to  their  own  island. 


SOLON. 


199 


to  which  also  he  had  some  claim,  by  his  being  related  to  So 
Ion,*  laid  out  magnificent  courts  and  enclosures,  and  erected 
a  grand  entrance  to  it,  such  as  no  other  story,  fable  or  poem 
ever  had.  But  as  he  began  it  late,  he  ended  his  life  before  the 
work;  so  that  the  more  the  reader  is  delighted  with  the  part 
that  is  written,  the  more  regret  he  has  to  find  it  unfinished. 
As  the  temple  of  Jupiter  Olympius  in  Athens  is  the  only  one 
that  has  not  the  last  hand  put  to  it,  so  the  wisdom  of  Plato, 
amcngst  his  many  excellent  works,  has  left  nothing  imperfect 
but  the  Atlantic  island. 

Heraclides  Ponticus  relates  that  Solon  lived  a  considerable 
time  after  Pisistratus  usurped  the  government;  but  according 
to  Phanias  the  Ephesian,  not  quite  two  years:  for  Pisistratus 
began  his  tyranny  in  the  archonship  of  Comias;  and  Phanias 
tells  us  Solon  died  in  the  archonship  of  Hegestratus,  the  im¬ 
mediate  successor  to  Comias.  The  story  of  his  ashest  being 
scattered  about  the  isle  of  Salamis,  appears  absurd  and  fabu¬ 
lous;  and  yet  it  is  related  by  several  authors  of  credit,  and  by 
Aristotle  in  particular. 

*  Plato’s  mother  was  a  descendant  of  the  brother  of  Solon. 

-f-  It  is  said  by  Diogenes  Laertius,  that  this  was  done  by  his  own  order.  In 
thus  disposing  of  his  remains,  either  Solon  himself  ear  those  who  wrote  his 
history,  imitated  the  story  of  Lycurgus,  who  left  an  express  order  that  his 
ashes  should  be  thrown  into  the  sea. 


THE 


LIFE  OF  PUBLICOLA. 


Mjch  is  the  character  of  Solon;  and  therefore  with  him  wo 
will  compare  Publicola,  so  called  by  the  Roman  people,  in 
acknowledgment  of  his  merit;  for  his  paternal  name  was 
Valerius.  He  was  descended  from  that  ancient  Valerius,* * * § 
who  was  the  principal  author  of  the  union  between  the  Ro¬ 
mans  and  the  Sabines;  for  he  it  was  that  most  effectually  per¬ 
suaded  the  two  kings  to  come  to  a  conference,  and  to  settle 
their  differences.  From  this  man  our  Valerius  deriving  his 
extraction,  distinguished  himself  by  his  eloquence  and  riches, t 
even  while  Rome  was  yet  under  kingly  government.  His 
eloquence  he  employed  with  great  propriety  and  spirit  in  de¬ 
fence  of  justice,  and  his  riches  in  relieving  the  necessitous. 
Hence  it  was  natural  to  conclude,  that  if  the  government 
should  become  republican^  his  station  in  it  would  soon  be 
one  of  the  most  eminent. 

When  Tarquin  the  Proud,  who  had  made  his  way  to  the 
throne,  by  the  violation  of  all  rights,  §  divine  and  human,  and 
then  exercised  his  power  as  he  acquired  it;  when,  like  an  op¬ 
pressor  and  a  tyrant,  he  became  odious  and  insupportable  to 
the  people;  they  took  occasion  to  revolt,  from  the  unhappy 
fate  of  Lucretia,  who  killed  herself  on  account  of  the  rape 
committed  upon  her  by  the  son  of  Tarquin ;||  Lucius  Brutus, 

*  The  first  of  his  family,  who  settled  at  Rome,  was  Valerius  Volesus,  a 
Sabine;  or,  as  Festus  and  the  fasti  Capitolini  call  him,  Velusus. 

■j-  Plutarch  by  this  would  insinuate,  that  arbitrary  power  is  no  friend  to 
eloquence.  And  undoubtedly  the  want  of  liberty  does  depress  the  spirit, 
and  restrain  the  force  of  genius:  whereas,  in  republics  and  limited  monar¬ 
chies,  full  scope  is  given,  as  well  as  many  occasions  afforded,  to  the  richest 
vein  of  oratory. 

t  Governments,  as  well  as  other  things,  pushed  to  excessive  lengths, 
often  change  to  the  contrary  extreme. 

§  He  made  use  of  the  body  of  his  father-in-law,  Servius  Tullius,  whom  he 
had  murdered,  as  a  step  to  the  throne. 

11  Livy  tells  us,  that  she  desired  her  father  and  husband  to  meet  her  at 
her  own  house.  With  her  father  Lucretius  came  Publius  Valerius,  after¬ 
wards  Publicola.  and  with  her  husband  Lucius  Junius  Brutus,  and  many 
other  Romans  of  distinction.  To  them  she  disclosed  in  few  words  the 
whole  matter,  declared  her  firm  resolution  not  to  outlive  the  loss  of  her  ho- 


PUBLICOLA. 


201 


meditating  a  change  of  government,  applied  to  Valerius  firs4 
and  with  nis  powerful  assistance,  expelled  the  king  and  his 
family.  Indeed,  while  the  people  seemed  inclined  to  give 
one  person  the  chief  command,  and  to  set  up  a  general  instead 
of  a  king,  Valerius  acquiesced,  and  willingly  yielded  the  first 
place  to  Brutus,  under  whose  auspices  the  republic  commenced. 
But  when  it  appeared  that  they  could  not  bear  the  thought  of 
being  governed  by  a  single  person,  when  they  seemed  more 
ready  to  obey  a  divided  authority,  and  indeed  proposed  and 
demanded  to  have  two  consuls  at  the  head  of  the  state,  then  he 
offered  himself  as  a  candidate  for  that  high  office,  together 
with  Brutus,  but  lost  his  election;  for,  contrary  to  Brutus’s 
desire,  Tarquinius  Collatinus,  the  husband  of  Lucretia,  was 
appointed  his  colleague:  not  that  he  was  a  more  worthy  or 
able  man  than  Valerius;  but  those  that  had  the  chief  interest 
in  the  state,  apprehensive  of  the  return  of  the  Tarquins,  who 
made  great  efforts  without,  and  endeavoured  to  soften  the  re¬ 
sentment  of  the  citizens  within,  were  desirous  to  be  corn 
manded  by  the  most  implacable  enemy  of  that  house 

Valerius,  taking  it  ill  that  it  should  be  supposed  lie  would 
not  do  his  utmost  for  his  country,  because  he  had  received  no 
particular  injury  from  the  tyrants,  withdrew  from  the  senate, 
forbore  to  attend  the  forum ,  and  would  not  intermeddle  in  the 
least  with  public  affairs;  so  that  many  began  to  express  their 
fear  and  concern,  lest  through  resentment  he  should  join  the 
late  royal  family,  and  overturn  the  commonwealth,  which  as 
yet  was  but  tottering.  Brutus  was  not  without  his  suspicions 
of  some  others,  and  therefore  determined  to  bring  the  sena¬ 
tors  to  their  oath  on  a  solemn  day  of  sacrifice,  which  he  ap¬ 
pointed  for  that  purpose.  On  this  occasion  Valerius  went 
with  great  alacrity  into  the  forum ,  and  was  the  first  to  make 
oath  that  he  would  never  give  up  the  least  point,  or  hearken 
to  any  terms  of  agreement  with  Tarquin,  but  would  defend 
the  Roman  liberty  with  his  sword:  which  afforded  great  satis¬ 
faction  to  the  senate,  and  strengthened  the  hands  of  the  con- 

nour,  and  conjured  them  not  to  let  the  crime  of  Sextus  Tarquinius  go  un¬ 
punished.  Them  the  heroine,  notwithstanding  their  endeavours  to  dissuade 
her  from  it,  plunged  a  dagger  in  her  breast.  While  the  rest  were  filled  with 
grief  and  consternation,  Brutus,  who  till  that  time  had  feigned  himself  an 
idiot,  to  prevent  his  being  obnoxious  to  the  tyrant,  took  the  bloody  poniard, 
and  showing  it  to  the  assembly,  said: — ««  I  swear  by  this  blood,  which 
once  was  so  pure,  and  which  nothing  but  the  detestable  villany  cf  Tarquin 
could  have  polluted,  that  I  will  pursue  L.  Tarquinius  the  Proud,  his  wicked 
wife,  and  their  children,  with  fire  and  sword;  nor  will  ever  suffer  any  of  that 
family,  or  any  other  whatsoever,  to  reign  at  Rome.  Ye  gods!  I  call  you  to 
witness  this  my  oath.”  At  these  words  he  presented  the  dagger  to  Colla¬ 
tinus,  Lucretius,  Valerius,  and  the  rest  of  the  company,  and  engaged  them 
to  take  the  same  oatli. 

Vol,  T - 2  E  i  » 


FUBL1C0LA. 


202 

suls.*  His  actions  soon  confirmed  the  sir  cerity  of  his  oafh, 
for  ambassadors  came  from  Tarquin  with  letters  calculated  to 
gain  the  people,  and  instructions  to  treat  with  them  in  such  a 
manner  as  might  be  most  likely  to  corrupt  them ;  as  they  were 
to  tell  them  from  the  king,  that  he  had  bid  adieu  to  his  higli 
notions,  and  was  willing  to  listen  to  very  moderate  conditions. 
Though  the  consuls  were  of  opinion  that  they  should  be  ad¬ 
mitted  to  confer  with  the  people,  Valerius  would  not  suffer  it, 
but  opposed  it  strongly,  insisting  that  no  pretext  for  innova¬ 
tion  should  be  given  the  needy  multitude,  who  might  consi¬ 
der  war  as  a  greater  grievance  than  tyranny  itself. 

After  this,  ambassadors  came  to  declare  that  he  would  give 
up  all  thoughts  of  the  kingdom,  and  lay  down  his  arms,  if 
they  would  but  send  him  his  treasures  and  other  effects,  that 
his  family  and  friends  might  not  want  a  subsistence  in  their 
exile.  Many  persons  inclined  to  indulge  him  in  this,  and 
Collatinus  in  particular  agreed  to  it;  but  Brutus, t  a  man  of 
great  spirit  and  quick  resentment,  ran  into  the  forum ,  and  call¬ 
ed  his  colleague  traitor,  for  being  disposed  to  grant  the  enemy 
the  means  to  carry  on  the  war,  and  recover  the  crown,  when 
indeed  it  would  be  too  much  to  grant  them  bread  in  the  place 
where  they  might  retire  to.  The  citizens  being  assembled  on 
that  occasion,  Caius  Minutius,  a  private  man,  was  the  first  who 
delivered  his  sentiments  to  them,  advising  Brutus  and  exhort¬ 
ing  the  Romans  to  take  care  that  the  treasures  should  fight  for 
them  against  the  tyrants,  rather  than  for  the  tyrants  against 
them.  The  Romans,  however,  were  of  opinion,  that  while 
they  obtained  that  liberty  for  which  they  began  the  war,  they 
should  not  reject  the  offered  peace  for  the  sake  of  the  treasures, 
but  cast  them  out  together  with  the  tyrants. 

In  the  mean  time  Tarqu’nius  made  but  small  account  of  his 
effects  ;  but  the  demand  of  them  furnished  a  pretence  for  sound¬ 
ing  the  people,  and  for  preparing  a  scene  of  treachery.  This 
was  carried  on  by  the  ambassadors,  under  pretence  of  taking 
care  of  the  effects,  part  of  whifii  they  said  they  were  to  sell, 
part  to  collect,  and  the  rest  to  send  away.  Thus  they  gained 

*  Thus  ended  the  regal  state  of  Rome,  242  years,  according  to  the  com¬ 
mon  computation,  after  the  building  of  the  city.  But  Sir  Isaac  Newton 
justly  observes,  that  this  can  scarce  be  reconciled  to  the  course  of  nature; 
for  we  meet  with  no  instance  in  all  history,  since  chronology  was  certain, 
wherein  seven  kings,  most  of  whom  were  slain,  reigned  so  long  a  time  in 
continual  succession.  By  contracting,  therefore,  the  reigns  of  these  kings, 
and  those  of  the  kings  of  Alba,  he  places  the  building  of  Rome,  not  in  the 
seventh,  but  in  the  thirty-eighth  Olympiad. 

•f-  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus,  on  the  contrary,  says  the  affair  was  debated 
21  the  senate  with  great  moderation;  and  when  it  could  not  be  settled  there 
whether  they  should  prefer  honour  or  profit,  it  was  referred  to  die  people, 
who  to  their  immorfal  praise,  carried  it,  by  a  majority  of  one  vote  for  hcr.otn 


PUBLICOM, 


203 


time  to  corrupt  two  of  the  best  families  in  Rome,  that  of  the 
Aquillii,  in  which  were  three  senators,  and  the  Vitellii,  among 
whom  were  two.  All  these,  by  the  mother’s  side,  were  ne¬ 
phews  to  Collatinus  the  consul.  The  Vitellii  were  likewise 
allied  to  Brutus;  for  their  sister  was  his  wife,  and  he  had  se¬ 
veral  children  by  her 5*  two  cf  whom,  just  arrived  at  years  of 
maturity,  and  being  of  their  kindred  and  acquaintance,  the 
Vitellii  drew  in  and  persuaded  to  engage  in  the  conspiracy; 
insinuating  that  by  this  means  they  might  marry  into  the  fa¬ 
mily  of  the  Tarquins,  share  in  their  royal  prospects,  and,  at 
the  same  time,  be  set  free  from  the  yoke  of  a  stupid  and  cruel 
father;  for  his  inflexibility  in  punishing  criminals,  they  called 
cruelty;  and  the  stupidity,  which  he  had  used  a  long  time  as 
a  cloak  to  shelter  him  from  the  bloody  designs  of  the  tyrants, 
had  procured  him  the  name  oi  Brutus, t  which  he  refused  not 
to  be  known  by  afterwards. 

The  youths  thus  engaged  were  brought  to  confer  with  the 
Aquilii;  and  all  agreed  to  take  a  great  and  horrible  oath,  by 
drinking  together  of  the  blood,  J  and  tasting§  the  entrails  of  a 
man  sacrificed  for  that  purpose.  This  ceremony  was  perform¬ 
ed  in  the  house  of  the  Aquilii;  and  the  room  chosen  for  it  (as 
it  was  natural  to  suppose)  was  dark  and  retired.  But  a  slave, 
named  Vindicius,  lurked  there  undiscovered;  not  that  he  had 
placed  himself  in  that  room  by  design:  nor  had  he  any  suspi¬ 
cion  of  what  was  going  to  be  transacted:  but  happening  to  be 
there  and  perceiving  with  what  haste  and  concern  they  en¬ 
tered,  he  stopped  short  for  fear  of  being  seen,  and  hid  him¬ 
self  behind  a  chest;  yet  so  that  he  could  see  what  was  done, 
and  hear  what  was  resolved  upon.  They  came  to  a  resolution 
to  kill  the  consuls;  and  having  wrote  letters  to  signify  as  much 
to  Tarquin,  they  gave  them  to  the  ambassadors,  who  ther 
were  guescs  to  the  Aquilii,  and  present  at  the  conspiracy. 

When  the  affair  was  over,  they  withdrew;  and  Vindicius, 
stealing  from  his  lurking-hole,  was  not  determined  what  to 
do,  but  disturbed  with  doubts.  He  thought  it  shocking,  as 
indeed  it  was,  to  accuse  the  sons  of  the  most  horrid  crimes  to 
their  father  Brutus,  or  the  nephews  to  their  uncle  Collatinus; 

•  Dionysius  and  Livy  make  mention  cf  no  more  than  two;  but  Plutarch 
agrees  with  those  who  say  that  Br.itus  h>xi  more,  and  that  Marcus  Brutus, 
who  killed  Caesar  was  descended  from  c  r.e  of  them.  Cicero  is  among"  those 
that  hold  the  latter  opinion;  cr  else  he  pretended  to  be  so,  to  make  the 
cause  and  person  of  Brutus  more  popular. 

f  Tarquin  had  put  the  father  and  brother  of  Brutus  to  death. 

t  They  thought  such  a  horrid  sacrifice  would  obligee  every  member  of  the 
conspiracy  to  inviolable  secrecy.  Catiline  put  the  same  in  practice  after* 
wards. 

4  The  Word  3 signifies  to  taste ,  as  well  as  to  touch. 


204 


PUBLICOLA. 


and  it  did  not  presently  occur  to  him  that  any  private  Roman 
was  fit  to  be  trusted  with  so  important  a  secret.  On  the  othci 
hand,  he  was  so  much  tormented  with  the  knowledge  of  such 
an  abominable  treason,  that  he  could  do  any  thing  rather 
than  conceal  it.  At  length,  induced  by  the  public  spirit  and 
humanity  of  Valerius,  he  bethought  himself  of  applying  to  him, 
a  man  easy  of  access,  and  willing  to  be  consulted  by  the  ne¬ 
cessitous;  whose  house  was  always  open,  and  who  never  re¬ 
fused  to  hear  the  petitions  even  of  the  meanest  of  the  people. 

Accordingly  Vindicius  coming,  and  discovering  to  him  the 
whole,  in  the  presence  of  his  brother  Marcus  and  his  wife, 
Valerius,  astonished  and  terrified  at  the  plot,  would  not  let  the 
man  go,  but  shut  him  up  in  the  room  and  left  his  wife  to  watch 
the  door.  Then  he  ordered  his  brother  to  surround  the  late 
king’s  palace,  to  seize  the  letters,  if  possible,  and  to  secure  the 
servants;  while  hirr.self,  with  many  clients  and  friends  whom 
he  always  had  about  him,  and  a  numerous  retinue  of  servants, 
went  to  the  house  of  the  Aquilii.  As  they  were  gone  out, 
and  no  one  expected  him,  he  forced  open  the  doors,  and  found 
the  letters  in  the  ambassador’s  room.  Whilst  he  was  thus  em¬ 
ployed,  the  Aquilii  ran  home  in  great  haste,  and  engaged  with 
him  at  the  door,  endeavouring  to  force  the  letters  from  him. 
But  Valerius  and  his  party  repelled  their  attack,  and  twisting 
their  gowns  about  their  necks,  after  much  struggling  on  both 
sides,  dragged  them  with  great  difficulty  through  the  streets 
into  the  forum .  Marcus  Valerius  had  the  same  success  at  the 
royal  palace,  where  he  seized  other  letters  ready  to  be  convey¬ 
ed  away  among  the  goods,  laid  hands  on  what  servants  of  the 
kino;  he  could  find,  and  had  them  also  into  the  forum . 

When  the  consuls  had  put  a  stop  to  the  tumult,  Vindicius 
was  produced  by  order  of  Valerius;  and  the  accusation  being 
lodged,  the  letters  were  read,  which  the  traitors  had  not  the 
assurance  to  contradict.  A  melancholy  stillness  reigned  among 
the  rest;  but  a  few,  willing  to  favour  Brutus,  mentioned  ban¬ 
ishment.  The  tears  of  Collatinus,  and  the  silence  of  Valerius, 
gave  some  hopes  of  mercy.  But  Brutus  called  upon  each  of  his 
sons  by  name,  and  said, — “  You,  Titus,  and  you,  Valerius,* 
why  do  not  you  make  your  defence  against  the  charge?”  After 
they  had  been  thus  questioned  three  several  times,  and  made 
no  answer,  he  turned  to  the  lictors ,  and  said, — “  Yours  is  the 
part  that  remains.”  The  lictors  immediately  laid  hold  on  the 
youths,  stripped  them  of  their  garments,  and  having  tied  tlieii 
hands  behind  them,  flogged  them  severely  with  their  rods. 
And  though  others  turned  their  eyes  aside,  unable  to  endure 
the  spectacle,  yet  it  is  said  that  Brutus  neither  looked  anothei 

*  The  name  of  Brutus  s  second  son  was  not  Valerius,  hut  Tiberius. 


PUBLICOLA. 


205 


way,  nor  suffered  pity  in  the  least  to  smooth  his  stern  and 
angry  countenance;*  regarding  his  sons  as  they  suffered  with 
a  threatening  aspect,  till  they  were  extended  on  the  ground, 
and  their  heads  cutoff  with  the  axe.  Then  he  departed,  leav¬ 
ing  the  rest  to  his  colleague.  This  was  an  action  which  it  is 
not  easy  to  praise  or  condemn  with  propriety;  for  either  the 
excess  of  virtue  raised  his  soul  above  the  influence  of  the  pas¬ 
sions,  or  else  the  excess  of  resentment  depressed  it  into  insen* 
sibility.  Neither  the  one  nor  the  other  was  natural,  or  suita¬ 
ble  to  the  human  faculties,  but  was  either  divine  or  brutal.  It 
is  more  equitable,  however,  that  our  judgment  should  give  its 
sanction  to  the  glory  of  this  great  man,  than  that  our  weakness 
should  incline  us  to  doubt  of  his  virtue;  for  the  Romans  do 
not  look  upon  it  as  so  glorious  a  work  for  Romulus  to  have 
built  the  city,  as  for  Brutus  to  have  founded  and  established 
the  commonwealth. 

After  Brutus  had  left  the  tribunal,  the  thought  of  what  was 
done  involved  the  rest  in  astonishment,  horror,  and  silence. 
But  the  easiness  and  forbearance  of  Collatinus  gave  fresh  spirits 
to  the  Aquilii;  they  begged  time  to  make  their  defence,  and 
desired  that  their  slave  Vindicius  might  be  restored  to  them, 
and  not  remain  with  their  accusers.  The  consul  was  inclined 
to  grant  their  request,  and  thereupon  to  dismiss  the  assembly  / 
but  Valerius  would  neither  suffer  the  slave  to  be  taken  from 
among  the  crowd,  nor  the  people  to  dismiss  the  traitors  and 
withdraw.  At  last  he  seized  the  criminals  himself  and  called 
for  Brutus,  exclaiming  that  Collatinus  acted  most  unworthily, 
in  laying  his  colleague  under  the  hard  necessity  of  putting  his 
own  sons  to  death,  and  then  inclining  to  gratify  the  women, 
by  releasing  the  betrayers  and  enemies  of  their  country.  Col¬ 
latinus,  upon  this,  losing  all  patience,  commanded  Vindicius 
to  be  taken  away;  the  lictors  made  way  through  the  crowd, 
seized  the  man,  and  came  to  blows  with  such  as  endeavoured 
to  rescue  him.  The  friends  of  Valerius  stood  upon  their  de¬ 
fence,  and  the  people  cried  out  for  Brutus.  Brutus  returned, 
and  silence  being  made,  he  said, — “  It  was  enough  for  him  to 
give  judgment  upon  his  own  sons;  as  for  the  rest,  he  left  them 
to  the  sentence  of  the  people,  who  were  now  free;  and  any  one 
that  chose  it  might  plead  before  them.”  They  did  not,  how¬ 
ever,  wait  for  pleadings,  but  immediately  put  it  to  the  vote, 
and  with  one  voice  condemned  them  to  die;  and  the  traitors 

*  Livy  gives  us  a  different  account  of  Brutus’s  behaviour.  Quum  inter 
omnetem pus  pater,  vultusque  et,  os  ejus,  speciaculo  esset ,  eminente  animo  pa- 
trio  inter  publicse poenx  ministcrium.  There  could  not  be  a  more  striking 
spectacle  than  the  countenance  of  Brutus,  for  anguish  sate  mixed  with 
dignity,  and  he  could  not  conceal  the  father,  though  lve  supported  the  ma¬ 
gistrate. — Liv.  lib.  ii.  cap.  5. 


ZOb 


rUBLICOLA. 


were  beheaded.  Collatinus,  it  seems,  was  somewhat  suspect¬ 
ed  before,  on  account  of  his  near  relation  to  the  royal  family;* 
and  one  of  his  names  was  obnoxious  to  the  people,  for  they 
abhorred  the  very  name  of  Tarquin.  But  on  this  occasion  he 
had  provoked  them  beyond  expression;  and  therefore  he  vo 
luntarily  resigned  the  consulship,  and  retired  from  the  city. 
A  new  election  consequently  was  held,  and  Valerius  declared 
consul  with  great  honour  as  a  proper  mark  of  gratitude  for  his 
patriotic  zeal.  As  he  was  of  opinion  that  Vindicius  should 
have  his  share  of  the  reward,  he  procured  a  decree  of  the  peo¬ 
ple  that  the  freedom  of  the  city  should  be  given  him,  which 
was  never  conferred  on  a  slave  before,  and  that  he  should  be 
enrolled  in  what  tribe  he  pleased,  and  give  his  suffrage  with 
it.  As  for  other  freedmen,  Appius,  wanting  to  make  him¬ 
self  popular,  procured  them  a  right  of  voting  long  after.  The 
act  of  enfranchising  a  slave  is  to  this  day  called  Vindicta  (we 
are  told),  from  this  Vindicius. 

The  next  step  that  was  taken,  was  to  give  up  the  goods  of 
the  Tarquins  to  be  plundered;  and  their  palace  and  other 
houses  were  levelled  with  the  ground.  The  pleasantest  part 
of  the  Campus  Martins  had  been  in  their  possession,  and  this 
was  now  consecrated  to  the  god  Mars.t  It  happened  to  be 
the  time  of  harvest,  and  the  sheaves  than  lay  upon  the  ground; 
but  as  it  was  consecrated,  they  thought  it  not  lawful  to  thrash 
the  corn,  or  to  make  use  of  it;  a  great  number  of  hands,  there¬ 
fore,  took  it  up  in  baskets,  and  threw  it  into  the  river.  The 
trees  were  also  cut  down  and  thrown  in  after  it,  and  the  ground 
left  entirely  without  fruit  or  product,  for  the  service  of  the 
god.  X  A  great  quantity  of  different  sorts  of  things  being  thus 
thrown  in  together,  they  were  not  carried  far  by  the  current, 
but  only  to  the  shallows,  where  the  first  heaps  had  stopped. 
Finding  no  farther  passage,  every  thing  settled  there,  and  the 
whole  was  bound  still  faster  by  the  river;  for  that  washed 
down  to  it  a  deal  of  mud,  which  not  only  added  to  the  mass, 
but  served  as  a  cement  to  it;  and  the  current,  far  from  dissolv 
ing  it,  by  its  gentle  pressure  gave  it  the  greater  firmness. 
The  bulk  and  solidity  of  this  mass  received  continual  addi¬ 
tions,  most  of  what  was  brought  down  by  the  Tyber  settling 


*  Lucius  Tarquinius,  the  son  of  Egerius,  and  nephew  of  Tarquinius  Pris¬ 
ons,  was  called  Collatinus,  from  Collatia,  of  which  he  was  governor.  Tar¬ 
quinius  Superbus,  and  Egerius,  the  father  of  Collatinus,  were  first  cousins. 

f  Plutarch  should  have  said  re-consecrated;  for  it  was  devoted  to  that  god 
in  the  time  of  Romulus,  as  appears  from  his  laws.  But  the  Tarquins  had 
sacrilegiously  converted  it  to  their  own  use. 

t  A  field  so  kept,  was  very  properly  adapted  to  the  service  of  the  god  of 
war,  v  ho  lays  waste  all  before  him. 


PUBLtCOLA. 


207 


there.  It  is  now  an  island  sacred  to  religious  uses;*  severo' 
temples  and  porticos  have  been  built  upon  it,  and  it  is  called 
in  Latin  Inter  duos  pontes, t  the  island  between  the  two  bridges 
Some  say,  however,  that  this  did  not  happen  at  the  dedica 
tion  of  Tarquin’s  field,  but  some  ages  after,  when  Tarquinia, 
a  vestal,  gave  another  adjacent  field  to  the  public;  for  which 
she  was  honoured  with  great  privileges,  particularly  that  of 
giving  her  testimony  in  court,  which  was  refused  to  all  other 
women;  they  likewise  voted  her  liberty  to  marry,  but  she  did 
not  accept  it.  This  is  the  account,  though  seemingly  fabu¬ 
lous,  which  some  give  of  the  matter. 

Tarquin,  despairing  to  reascend  the  throne  by  stratagem, 
ipplied  to  the  Tuscans,  who  gave  him  a  kind  reception,  and 
prepared  to  conduct  him  back  with  a  great  armament.  The 
consuls  led  the  Roman  forces  against  them;  and  the  two  ar¬ 
mies  were  drawn  up  in  certain  consecrated  parcels  of  ground, 
the  one  called  the  Arsian  grove,  the  other  the  iEsuvian  mea¬ 
dow.  When  they  came  to  charge,  Aruns,  the  son  of  Tarquin, 
and  Brutus,  the  Roman  consul,  X  met  each  other,  not  by  acci 
dent,  but  design;  animated  by  hatred  and  resentment,  the  one 
against  a  tyrant,  and  enemy  of  his  country,  the  other  to  re¬ 
venge  his  banishment,  they  spurred  their  horses  to  the  en¬ 
counter.  As  they  engaged  rather  with  fury  than  conduct,  they 
laid  themselves  open,  and  fell  by  each  other’s  hand.  The  bat 
tie,  whose  onset  was  so  dreadful,  had  not  a  milder  conclusion; 
the  carnage  was  prodigious,  and  equal  on  both  sides,  till  at 
length  the  armies  were  separated  by  a  storm. 

Valerius  was  in  great  perplexity,  as  he  knew  not  which  side 
had  the  victory,  and  found  his  men  as  much  dismayed  at  the 
sight  of  their  own  dead,  as  animated  by  the  loss  of  the  enemy. 
So  great,  indeed,  was  the  slaughter,  that  it  could  not  be  dis¬ 
tinguished  who  had  the  advantage;  and  each  army  having  a 
near  view  of  their  own  loss,  and  only  guessing  at  that  of  the 
enemy,  were  inclined  to  think  themselves  vanquished,  rather 
than  victorious.  When  night  came  on  (such  a  night  as  one 
might  imagine  after  so  bloody  a  day),  and  both  camps  were 
hushed  in  silence  and  repose,  it  is  said  that  the  grove  shook, 
and  a  loud  voice  proceeding  from  it,  declared  that,  the  Tus¬ 
cans  had  lost  one  man  more  than  the  Homans .  The  voice  way 

*  Livy  says  it  was  secured  against  the  force  of  the  current  by  jettecs. 

f  The  Fabric  ran  bridge  joined  it  to  the  city  on  the  side  of  the  Capitol,  and 
the  Cestian  bridge  on  the  side  of  the  Janiculine  gate. 

$  Brutus  is  deservedly  reckoned  among  the  most  illustrious  heroes.  He 
restored  liberty  to  his  country,  secured  it  with  the  blotd  of  his  own  sons, 
and  died  in  defending  it  against  a  tyrant.  The  Romans  afterwards  erected 
his  statue  in  the  Capitol,  where  he  was  placed  in  the  midst  of  the  kings  of 
Re  ne,  with  a  nake  1  sword  in  his  hand. 


208 


PUBLIC  OLA. 


undoubtedly  divine;*  for  immediately  upon  that,  the  Romans 
recovered  their  spirits,  and  the  field  rung  with  acclamations 
while  the  Tuscans,  struck  with  fear  and  confusion,  deserted 
their  camp,  and  most  of  them  dispersed.  As  for  those  that 
remained,  who  were  not  quite  five  thousand,  the  Romans  took 
them  prisoners,  and  plundered  the  camp.  When  the  dead  were 
numbered,  there  were  found  on  the  side  of  the  Tuscans  eleven 
thousand  three  hundred,  and  on  that  of  the  Romans  as  many, 
excepting  one.  This  battle  is  said  to  have  been  fought  on  the 
'ast  of  February.  Valerius  was  honoured  with  a  triumph,  and 
was  the  first  consul  that  made  his  entry  in  a  chariot  and  four. 
The  occasion  rendered  the  spectacle  glorious  and  venerable, 
not  invidious,  and  (as  some  would  have  it)  grievous  to  the 
Romans;  for  if  tint  had  been  the  case,  the  custom  would  not 
have  been  so  zealously  kept  up,  nor  would  the  ambition  to 
obtain  a  triumph  have  lasted  so  many  ages.  The  people  were 
pleased,  too,  with  the  honours  paid  by  Valerius  to  the  remains 
of  his  colleague,  his  burying  him  with  so  much  pomp  and  pro 
nouncing  his  funeral  oration;  which  last  the  Romans  so  ge¬ 
nerally  approved,  or  rather  were  so  much  charmed  with,  that 
afterwards  all  the  great  and  illustrious  men  among  them,  upon 
their  decease,  had  their  encomium  from  persons  of  distinc¬ 
tion.!  This  funeral  oration  was  more  ancient  than  any  among 
the  Greeks,  unless  we  allow  what  Anaximenes  the  orator  re¬ 
lates,  that  Solon  was  the  author  of  this  custom. 

But  that  which  offended  and  exasperated  the  people  was 
this: — Brutus,  whom  they  considered  as  the  father  of  liberty, 
would  not  rule  alone,  but  took  to  himself  a  first  and  a  second 
colleague; — u  yet  this  man/’  said  they,  “  grasps  the  whole  au¬ 
thority,  and  is  not  the  successor  to  the  consulate  of  Brutus, 
to  which  he  has  no  right,  but  to  the  tyranny  of  Tarquin.  To 
what  purpose  is  it  in  words  to  extol  Brutus,  and  in  deeds  to 
imitale  Tarquin,  while  he  has  all  the  rods  and  axes  carried  be¬ 
fore  him  alone,  and  sets  out  from  a  house  more  stately  than 
the  royal  palace  which  he  demolished?”  It  is  true,  Valerius 
did  live  in  a  house  too  lofty  and  superb,  on  the  Velian  emi¬ 
nence,  which  commanded  the  forum ,  and  every  thing  that 
passed;  and  as  the  avenues  were  difficult,  and  the  ascent  steep, 
when  he  came  down  from  it,  his  appearance  was  very  pomjv- 

*  It  was  said  to  be  the  voice  of  the  god  Pan. 

!  Funeral  orations  were  not  in  use  among*  the  Greeks,  till  the  battle  of 
rathon,  which  was  sixteen  years  after  the  death  of  Erutus.  The  heroes  that 
fell  so  gloriously  there,  did,  indeed,  well  deserve  such  eulogiums;  and  the 
Grecians  never  granted  them  but  to  those  that  were  slain  fighting  for  theii 
country.  In  this  fespect,  the  custom  of  the  Romans  was  more  equitable, 
for  they  honoured,  with  those  public  marks  of  regard,  such  as  had  served 
their  country  in  any  capacity. 


PUBLICOLA. 


20* 

ous,  and  resembled  the  state  of  a  king,  rather  than  that  of  3 
consul.  But  he  soon  showed  of  what  consequence  it  is  foi 
persons,  in  high  stations  and  authority,  to  have  their  ears  open 
to  truth  and  good  advice  rather  than  flattery;  for  when  hia 
friends  informed  him,  that  most  people  thought  he  was  taking 
wrong  steps,  he  made  no  dispute,  nor  expressed  any  resent¬ 
ment,  but  hastily  assembled  a  number  of  workmen,  whilst  it 
was  yet  night,  who  demolished  his  house  entirely;  so  that 
when  the  Romans,  in  the  morning,  assembled  to  look  upon  it, 
they  admired  and  adored  his  magnanimity,  but,  at  the  same 
time,  were  troubled  to  see  so  grand  and  magnificent  an  edifice 
ruined  by  the  envy  of  the  citizens,  as  they  would  have  lament¬ 
ed  the  death  of  a  great  man  who  had  fallen  as  suddenly,  and  by 
the  same  cause.  It  gave  them  pain,  too,  to  see  the  consul,  who 
had  now  no  home,  obliged  to  take  shelter  in  another  man’s 
house;  for  Valerius  was  entertained  by  his  friends,  till  the 
people  provided  a  piece  of  ground  for  him,  where  a  less  state¬ 
ly  house  was  built,  in  the  place  where  the  temple  of  Victory 
now  stands.* 

Desirous  to  make  his  high  office,  as  well  as  himself,  rather 
agreeable  than  formidable  to  the  people,  he  ordered  the  axes 
to  be  taken  away  from  the  rods,  and  that  whenever  he  went  to 
the  great  assembly,  the  rods  should  be  lowered  in  respect  to 
the  citizens,  as  if  the  supreme  power  were  lodged  in  them;  a 
custom  which  the  consuls  observe  to  this  day.t  The  people 
were  not  aware,  that  by  this  he  did  not  lessen  his  own  power, 
(as  they  imagined),  but  only,  by  such  an  instance  of  modera¬ 
tion,  obviated  and  cut  off  all  occasion  of  envy,  and  gained  as 
much  authority  to  his  person  as  he  seemed  to  take  from  his 
office;  for  they  all  submitted  to  him  with  pleasure,  and  were 
so  mu-ch  charmed  with  his  behaviour,  that  they  gave  him  the 
name  of  Publicola ,  that  is,  the  People’s  respectful  friend.  In  this 
both  his  former  names  were  lost;  and  this  we  shall  make  use 
of  in  the  sequel  of  his  life. 

Indeed  it  was  no  more  than  his  due;  for  he  permitted  all  to 
sue  for  the  consulship.  J  Yet,  before  a  colleague  was  appoint- 

*  Plutarch  has  it,  where  the  temple  called  Vicus  Publicus  now  stands.  He 
had  found  in  the  historians  vicas  potae ,  which  in  old  Latin  signifies  victory ,  but 
as  he  did  not  understand  it,  he  substituted  Vicus  Publicus ,  which  here  would 
have  no  sense  at  all. 

j"  The  axes,  too,  were  still  borne  before  the  consuls  when  they  were  ii. 
the  field. 

+  If  Publicola  gave  the  plebeians,  as  well  as  the  patrician»,  x  right  to  the 
consulate,  that  right  did  not  then  take  place;  for  Lucius  Sextius  was  the  firs* 
plebeian  who  arrived  at  that  honour,  many  ages  after  the  time  of  which  Plu 
tarch  speaks;  and  this  continued  but  eleven  years;  for  in  the  twelfth,  which 
was  the  four  hundredth  year  of  Rome,  both  the  consuls  were  again  patri 
cians. — Liv.  1.  vii.  cap.  18. 

y0L.  I. - 2  Y 


no 


PUBLICOLA. 


ed  him,  as  he  knew  not  what  might  happen,  and  was  appro* 
nensive  of  some  opposition  from  ignorance  or  envy,  while  he 
had  the  sole  power  he  made  use  of  it  to  establish  some  of  the 
most  useful  and  excellent  regulations.  In  the  first  place,  he 
filled  up  the  senate,  which  then  was  very  thin;  several  of  that 
august  body  having  been  put  to  death  by  Tarquin  before,  and 
others  fallen  in  the  late  battle.  He  is  said  to  have  made  up  the 
number  a  hundred  and  sixty-four.  In  the  next  place  he  cans- 
ed  certain  laws  to  be  enacted,  which  greatly  augmented  the 
power  of  the  people.  The  first  gave  liberty  of  "appeal  from 
the  consuls  to  the  people;  the  second  made  it  death  to  entei 
upon  the  magistracy,  without  the  people’s  consent;  the  third 
was  greatly  in  favour  of  the  poor,  as,  by  exempting  them  from 
taxes, *  it  promoted  their  attention  to  manufactures.  Even 
his  law  against  disobedience  to  the  consuls,  wTas  not  less  popu¬ 
lar  than  the  rest;  and,  in  effect,  it  favoured  the  commonalty 
rather  than  the  great;  for  the  fine  was  only  the  value  of  five 
oxen  and  twro  sheep.  The  value  of  a  sheep  was  ten  oboli ,  of 
an  ox  a  hundred;!  the  Romans  as  yet  not  making  much  use  of 
money,  because  their  wealth  consisted  in  abundance  of  cattle. 
To  this  day  they  call  their  substance  peculia ,  from  pecus ,  cat¬ 
tle,  their  most  ancient  coins  having  the  impression  of  an  ox, 
a  sheep,  or  a  hog;  and  their  sons  being  distinguished  with  the 
names  of  Suilli,  Bubulci ,  Caprarii,  and  Porcii ,  derived  from  the 
names  of  such  animals. 

Though  these  laws  of  Publicola  were  popular  and  equitable, 
yet,  amidst  this  moderation,  the  punishment  he  appointed  in 
one  case  was  severe;  for  he  made  it  lawful,  without  a  form  of 
trial,  to  kill  any  man  that  should  attempt  to  set  himself  up  for 
king;  and  the  person  that  took  away  his  life,  was  to  stand  ex¬ 
cused,  if  he  could  make  proof  of  the  intended  crime.  His 
reason  for  such  a  law,  we  presume,  was  this;  though  it  is  no. 
possible  that  he  who  undertakes  so  great  an  enterprise  should 
escape  all  notice,  yet  it  is  very  probable  that,  though  suspect¬ 
ed,  he  may  accomplish  his  designs  before  he  can  be  brought 
to  answer  for  it  in  a  judicial  way;  and  as  the  crime,  if  com¬ 
mitted,  wTould  prevent  his  being  called  to  account  for  it,  this 
law  empowered  any  one  to  punish  him  before  such  cognizance 
was  taken. 

His  law  concerning  the  treasury  did  him  honour.  It  was 
necessary  that  money  should  be  raised  for  the  war  from  the 
estates  of  the  citizens,  but  he  determined  that  neither  himself 

*  He  exempted  artificers,  widows,  and  old  men,  who  had  no  children  t<? 
relieve  them,  from  paying’  tribute. 

-j-  Before  the  fine  was  such  as  the  commonalty  could  not  pa)'  without  ab> 
solute  min 


PUBLIC  OLA. 


211 


nor  any  of  his  friends  should  have  the  disposal  of  it;  nor  would 
he  suffer  it  to  be  lodged  in  any  private  house.  He  therefore 
appointed  the  temple  of  Saturn  to  be  the  treasury,  which  they 
still  make  use  of  for  that  purpose,  and  empowered  the  people 
to  choose  trro  young  men  as  qusestbrs ,  or  treasurers .*  The 
first  were  Publius  Veturius  and  Marcus  Minutius;  and  a 
large  sum  was  collected;  for  a  hundred  and  thirty  thousand 
pei  sons  were  taxed,  though  the  orphans  and  widows  stood 
excused. 

These  matters  thus  regulated  he  procured  Lucretius,  the 
father  of  the  injured  Lucretia,  to  be  appointed  his  colleague. 
To  him  he  gave  the  fasces  (as  they  are  called),  together  with 
the  precedency,  as  the  older  man;  and  this  mark  of  respect 
to  age  has  ever  since  continued.  As  Lucretius  died  a  few 
days  after,  another  election  was  held,  and  Marcus  Horatiust 
appointed  in  his  room  for  the  remaining  part  of  the  year. 

About  that  time,  Tarquin  making  preparations  for  a  second 
war  against  the  Romans,  a  great  prodigy  is  said  to  have  hap¬ 
pened.  This  prince,  while  yet  upon  the  throne,  had  almost 
finished  the  temple  of  Jupiter  Capitolinus,  when,  either  by  the 
direction  of  an  oracle, %  or  upon  some  fancy  of  his  own,  he  or¬ 
dered  the  artists  of  Veii  to  make  an  earthen  chariot,  which 
was  to  be  placed  on  the  top  of  it.  Soon  after  this  he  forfeited 
the  crown.  The  Tuscans,  however,  moulded  the  chariot,  and 
set  it  in  the  furnace;  but  the  case  was  very  different  with  it 
from  that  of  other  clay  in  the  fire,  which  condenses  and  con¬ 
tracts  upon  the  exhalation  of  the  moisture,  whereas  it  enlarged 
itself  and  swelled,  till  it  grew  to  such  a  size  and  hardness,  that 
it  was  with  difficulty  they  got  it  out,  even  after  the  furnace 
was  dismantled.  The  soothsayers  being  of  opinion  that  tills 
chariot  betokened  power  and  success  to  the  persons  with  whom 
it  should  remain,  the  people  of  Veii  determined  not  to  give  it 
up  to  the  Romans;  but  upon  their  demanding  it,  returned  this 
answer,  that  it  belonged  to  Tarquin,  not  to  those  that  had 
driven  him  from  his  kingdom.  It  happened  that  a  few  days 

*  The  office  of  the  quaestors  was  to  take  care  of  the  public  treasure, 
for  which  they  were  accountable  when  their  year  was  out;  to  furnish  the 
necessary  sums  for  the  service  of  the  public;  and  to  receive  ambassadors, 
attend  them,  and  provide  them  with  lodging's  and  other  necessaries.  A  ge¬ 
neral  could  not  obtain  the  honours  of  a  triumph,  till  he  had  given  them  a 
faithful  account  of  the  spoils  he  had  taken,  and  sworn  to  it.  There  were  at 
first  two  quaestors  only;  but  when  the  Roman  empire  was  considerably  en¬ 
larged,  their  number  was  increased.  The  office  of  quaestor,  though  often 
discharged  by  persons  who  had  been  consuls,  was  the  first  step  to  great 
Employments. 

f  Horatius  Pulvillus. 

*  It  was  a  usual  thing  to  place  chariots  on  the  tops  of  temples. 


212 


rUBLtCOLA. 


after  there  was  a  chariot-race  at  Veii,  which  was  observed  as 
usual,  except  that  as  the  charioteer,  who  had  won  the  prize 
and  received  the  crown,  was  gently  driving  out  of  the  ring, 
the  horses  took  fright  from  no  visible  cause,  but  either  by 
some  direction  of  the  gods,  or  turn  of  fortune,  ran  away  with 
their  driver  at  full  speed  towards  Rome.  It  was  in  vain  chat  he 
pulled  the  reins,  or  soothed  them  with  words:  he  was  obliged 
to  give  way  to  the  career,  and  was  whirled  along  till  they 
came  to  the  Capitol,  where  they  flung  him,  at  the  gate  now 
called  Ratumena .  The  Veientes,  surprised  and  terrified  at  this 
incident,  ordered  the  artists  to  deliver  up  the  chariot.* 

Tarquin,  the  son  of  Demaratus,  in  his  wars  with  the  Sabines, 
made  a  vow  to  build  a  temple  to  Jupiter  Capitolinus,  which 
was  performed  by  Tarquin  the  Proud,  son  or  grandson  to  the 
former.  He  did  not,  however,  consecrate  it,  for  it  was  not 
quite  finished  when  he  was  expelled  from  Rome.f  When  the 
last  hand  was  put  to  it,  and  it  had  received  every  suitable  or 
nament,  Publicola  was  ambitious  of  the  honour  of  dedicating 
it.  This  excited  the  envy  of  some  of  the  nobility,  who  could 
better  brook  his  other  honours,  to  which,  indeed,  in  his  legis¬ 
lative  and  military  capacities,  he  had  a  better  claim;  but,  as  he 
had  no  concern  in  this,  they  did  not  think  proper  to  grant  it 
him;  but  encouraged  and  importuned  Horatius  to  apply  for  it. 
In  the  mean  time,  Publicola’s  command  of  the  army  necessa¬ 
rily  required  his  absence,  and  his  adversaries,  taking  the  op¬ 
portunity  to  procure  an  order  from  the  people  that  Horatius 
should  dedicate  the  temple,  conducted  him  to  the  Capitol;  a 
point  which  they  could  not  have  gained  had  Publicola  been 
present.  Yet  some  say,  the  consuls  having  cast  lots  for  it,} 
the  dedication  fell  to  Horatius,  and  the  expedition,  against  his 
inclination,  to  Publicola.  But  we  may  easily  conjecture  how 
they  stood  disposed,  by  the  proceedings  on  the  day  of  dedica¬ 
tion.  This  was  the  thirteenth  of  September,  which  is  about 
the  full  moon  of  the  month  Metagitnian ,  when  prodigious 
numbers  of  all  ranks  being  assembled,  and  silence  enjoined, 
Horatius,  after  the  other  ceremonies,  took  hold  of  one  of  the 
gate-posts  (as  the  custom  is),  and  was  going  to  pronounce  the 
prayer  of  consecration;  but  Marcus,  the  brother  of  Publicola, 

•  A  miracle  of  this  kind,  and  not  less  extraordinary,  is  said  to  have  hap¬ 
pened  in  modern  Rome.  When  poor  St.  Michael’s  church  was  in  a  ruinous 
condition,  the  horses  that  were  employed  in  drawing  stones  through  the  citv, 
unanimously  agreed  to  carry  their  loads  to  St.  Michael! 

f  This  temple  was  200  feet  long,  and  185  and  upwards  broad.  The  front 
was  adorned  with  three  rows  of  columns,  and  the  sides  with  two.  In  the 
nave  were  three  shrines,  one  of  Jupiter,  another  of  Juno,  and  the  third  of 
Minerva. 

t  Livy  says  positively,  they  cast  lots  for  it.  Plutarch  seems  to  have  taken 
the  sequel  of  the  story  .Torn  him. — Liv.  lib.  ii.  c.  8 


PUBLICOLA. 


aia 

who  had  stood  for  some  time  by  the  gates  watching  his  oppor¬ 
tunity,  cried  out,  “Consul,  your  son  lies  dead  in  the  camp.” 
This  gave  great  pain  to  all  that  heard  it;  but  the  consul,  not 
in  the  least  disconcerted,  made  answer, — “  Then  cast  out  the 
dead  where  you  please,  I  admit  of  no. mourning  on  this  occa¬ 
sion;”  and  so  proceeded  to  finish  the  dedication.  The  news 
was  not  true,  but  an  invention  of  Marcus,,  who  hoped  by  that 
means  to  hinder  Horatius  from  completing  what  he  was  about. 
But  his  presence  of  mind  is  equally  admirable,  whether  he  im¬ 
mediately  perceived  the  falsity,  or  believed  the  account  to  be 
true,  without  showing  any  emotion. 

The  same  fortune  attended  the  dedication  of  the  second 
temple.  The  first,  built  by  Tarquin,  and  dedicated  by  Hora¬ 
tius,  as  we  have  related,  was  afterwards  destroyed  by  fire  in 
ihe  civil  wars.*  Sylla  rebuilt  it,  but  did  not  live  to  conse¬ 
crate  it;  so  the  dedication  of  this  second  temple  fell  to  Catullus. 
It  was  again  destroyed  in  the  troubles  which  happened  in  the 
time  of  Vitellius;  and  a  third  was  built  by  Vespasian,  who 
with  his  usual  good  fortune,  put  the  last  hand  to  it,  but  did  not 
see  it  demolished,  as  it  was  soon  after:  happier  in  this  respect 
than  Sylla,  who  died  before  his  was  dedicated,  Vespasian  died 
before  his  was  destroyed;  for  immediately  after  bis  decease 
the  Capitol  wTas  burnt.  The  fourth,  which  now  stands,  was 
built  and  dedicated  by  Domitian.  Tarquin  is  said  to  have  ex¬ 
pended  thirty  thousand  pounds  weight  of  silver  upon  the  foun¬ 
dations  only;  but  the  greatest  wealth  any  private  man  is  sup¬ 
posed  to  be  now  possessed  of  in  Rome,  would  not  answer  the 
expense  of  the  gilding  of  the  present  temple,  which  amounted 
to  more  than  twelve  thousand  talents,  t  The  pillars  are  of 
Pentelic  marble,  and  the  thickness  was  in  excellent  proportion 
to  their  length,  when  we  saw  them  at  Athens;  but  when  they 
were  cut  and  polished  anew  at  Rome,  they  gained  not  so  much 

*  After  the  first  temple  was  destroyed  in  the  wars  between  Sylla  and  Ma¬ 
rius,  Sylla  rebuilt  it  with  columns  of  marble,  which  he  bad  taken  out  of  the 
temple  of  Jupiter  Olympius  at  Athens,  and  transported  to  Rome.  But  (as 
Plutarch  observes)  he  did  not  live  to  consecrate  it;  and  lie  was  heard  to  say, 
as  he  was  dying*,  that  his  leaving*  that  temple  to  be  dedicated  by  another 
was  the  only  unfortunate  circumstance  of  his  life. 

f  194,350/.  sterling*.  In  this  we  may  see  the  great  distance  between  the 
wealth  of  private  citizens  in  a  free  country,  and  that  of  the  subjects  of  an  ar 
bitrary  monarch.  In  Trajan’s  time,  there  was  not  a  private  man  in  Rome 
worth  200,000/.;  whereas,  under  the  commonwealth,  iEmilius  Scaur  us,  ii 
his  aedileship,  erected  a  temporary  theatre,  which  cost  above  500,000/. :  Mar 
cue  Crassus  had  an  estate  in  land  of  above  a  million  a  year;  L.  Cornelius  Bal- 
bus  left  by  will,  to  every  Roman  citizen,  twenty-five  denarii ,  which  amounts 
to  about  sixteen  shillings  of  our  money;  and  man)  private  men  among  the 
Romans  maintained  from  ten  to  twenty  thousand  slaves,  not  so  much  for 
service  as  ostentation.  No  wonder  then  that  the  slaves  once  took  up  arms, 
and  went  to  war  with  the  Rr  man  commonwealth. 

20 


m 


PUBLinOLA. 


*n  the  polish,  as  they  lost  in  the  proportion;  for  their  beauty 
s  injured  by  their  appearing  too  slender  for  their  height.  But 
After  admiring  the  magnificence  of  the  Capitol,  if  any  one  was 
to  go  and  see  a  gallery,  a  hall,  or  bath,  or  the  apartments  of 
the  women,  in  Domitian’s  palace,  what  is  said  by  Epicharmus 
of  a  prodigal: — 

Your  lavish’d  stores  speak  not  the  liberal  mind, 

But  the  disease  of  giving1, 

lie  might  apply  to  Domitian  in  some  such  manner  as  this: 

“  Neither  piety  nor  magnificence  appears  in  your  expense;  you 
have  the  disease  of  building;  like  Mid;.;  of  old,  you  would 
turn  every  thing  to  gold  and  marble.”  So  much  ter  this  sub' 
ject. 

Let  us  now  return  to  Tarquin.  After  that  great  battle  in 
which  he  lost  his  son,  who  was  killed  in  single  combat  by 
Brutus,  he  fled  to  Clusium,  and  begged  assistance  of  Laras 
Porsena,  then  the  most  powerful  prince  in  Italy,  and  a  man 
of  great  worth  and  honour.  Porsena  promised  him  succours;* 
and,  in  the  first  place,  sent  to  the  Romans,  commanding  them 
to  receive  Tarquin.  Upon  their  refusal,  he  declared  war 
against  them;  and  having  informed  them  of  the  time  when, 
and  the  place  where,  he  would  make  his  assault,  he  marched 
thither  accordingly  with  a  great  army.  Publicola,  who  was 
then  absent,  was  chosen  consul  the  second  time,t  and  with 
him  Titus  Lucretius.  Returning  to  Rome,  and  desirous  to 
outdo  Porsena  in  spirit,  J  he  built  the  town  of  Sigliuria,  not¬ 
withstanding  the  enemy’s  approach;  and  when  he  had  finished 
the  walls  at  a  great  expense,  he  placed  in  it  a  colony  of  seven 
hundred  men,  as  if  he  held  his  adversary  very  cheap.  Por¬ 
sena,  however,  assaulted  it  in  a  spirited  manner,  drove  out  the 
garrison,  and  pursued  the  fugitives  so  close,  that  he  was  neai 
entering  Rome  along  with  them.  But  Publicola  met  him 
without  the  gates,  and  joining  battle  by  the  river,  sustained 
the  enemy’s  attack,  who  pressed  on  with  numbers,  till  at  last, 
sinking  under  the  wounds  he  had  gallantly  received,  he  was 
carried  out  of  the  battle.  Lucretius,  his  colleague,  having  the 
same  fate,  the  courage  of  the  Romans  drooped,  and  they  re¬ 
treated  into  the  city  for  security.  The  enemy  making  good 
the  pursuit  to  the  wooden  bridge,  Rome  was  in  great  danger 

*  Besides  that  Porsena  was  willing1  to  assist  a  distressed  king1,  he  consider* 
ed  the  Tarquins  as  his  countrymen,  for  they  were  of  Tuscan  enaction. 

f  It  was  when  Publicola  was  consul  the  third  time,  and  had  for  colleague 
lloratius  Pulvillus,  that  Porsena  marched  against  Pome. 

t  Sigliuria  was  not  built  at  this  time,  nor  out  of  ostentation,  as  Plutarch 
says;  for  it  was  built  as  a  barrier  against  the  Latins  and  the  Hernici,  and  not 
in  the  third,  but  in  the  second  consulship  of  Publicola. 


PUBLIC  OLA. 


215 


>1  being  taken,  when  Horatius  Codes,*  and  with  him  two 
others  of  the  first  rank,  Herminius  and  Spurius  Lartius,t  stop- 
oed  them  at  the  bridge.  Horatius  had  the  surname  of  Codes 
from  his  having  lost  an  eye  in  the  wars;  or  as  some  will  have 
it,  from  the  form  of  ids  nose,  which  was  so  very  flat,  that  both 
liis  eyes,  as  w~ell  as  eye-brows,  seemed  to  be  joined  together; 
so  that  when  the  vulgar  intended  to  call  him  Cydops ,  by  a 
misnomer  they  called  him  Codes ,  which  name  remained  with 
him.  This  man,  standing  at  the  head  of  the  bridge,  defended 
it  against  the  enemy,  till  the  Romans  broke  it  down  behind 
him.  Then  he  plunged  into  the  Tyber,  armed  as  he  was,  and 
swam  to  the  other  side,  but  was  wounded  in  the  hip  with  a 
Tuscan  spear.  Publicola,  struck  with  admiration  of  his  va¬ 
lour,  immediately  procured  a  decree,  that  every  Roman  should 
give  him  one  day’s  provisions ;$  and  that  he  should  have  as 
much  land  as  himself  could  encircle  with  a  plough  in  one  day. 
Besides,  they  erected  his  statue  in  brass  in  the  temple  of  \  ul 
can,  with  a  view  to  console  him  by  this  honour  for  his  wound, 
and  lameness  consequent  upon  it.  § 

While  Porsenalaid  close  siege  to  the  city,  the  Romans  were 
attacked  with  famine,  and  another  body  of  Tuscans  laid  waste 
the  country.  Publicola,  who  was  now  consul  the  third  time, 
was  of  opinion  that  no  operations  could  be  carried  on  against 
Porsena  but  defensive  ones.  He  marched  out,  ||  however, 
privately  against  these  Tuscans  who  had  committed  such  rava¬ 
ges,  defeated  them,  and  killed  five  thousand. 

The  story  of  MuciusIT  has  been  the  subject  of  many  pens, 
and  is  variously  related.  I  shall  give  that  account  of  it  which 
seems  most  credible.  Mucius  was  in  all  respects  a  man  of 
merit,  but  particularly  distinguished  by  his  valour.  Having 
secretly  formed  a  scheme  to  take  off  Porsena,  he  made  his  way 
into  his  camp  in  a  Tuscan  dress,  where  he  likewise  took  care 
to  speak  the  Tuscan  language.  In  this  disguise  he  approached 
the  seat  where  the  king  sat  with  his  nobles;  and  as  he  did  not 
certainly  know  Porsena,  and  thought  it  improper  to  ask,  he 

*  He  was  son  t.j  a  brother  of  Horatius  the  consul,  and  a  descendant  of  that 
Horatius  who  remained  victorious  in  the  great  combat  between  the  Horatii 
find  Curiatii  in  the  reign  of  TuIIub  Jlnslilius. 

f  In  the  Greek  text  it  is  Lucretius,  which,  we  suppose,  is  a  corruption  of 
i^artius,  the  name  we  find  in  Livy. 

i  Probably  he  had  three  hundred  thousand  contributors,  for  even  tire  wo¬ 
men  readily  gave  in  their  quota. 

$  This  defect,  and  his  having  but  one  eye,  prevented  his  ever  being  consul. 

H  The  consul  spread  a  report,  which  was  soon  carried  into  the  Tuscan 
camp  by  the  slaves  who  deserted,  that  the  next  day  all  the  cattle  brought 
thither  from  the  country,  would  be  sent  to  graze  in  the  fields  under  a  guard. 
This  bait  drew  the  enemy  into  an  ambush. 

1  Mucius  Cordus. 


216 


PUBLICQLA. 


drew  his  sword,  and  killed  the  person  that  seemed  most  likely 
to  be  the  king.  Upon  this  he  was  seized  and  examined.  Mean 
time,  as  there  happened  to  be  a  portable  altar  there,  with  fire 
upon  it,  where  the  king  was  about  to  offer  sacrifice,  Mucius 
thrust  his  right  hand  into  it;*  and  as  the  flesh  was  burning,  he 
kept  looking  upon  Porsena  with  a  firm  and  menacing  aspect, 
till  the  king,  astonished  at  his  fortitude,  returned  him  his 
sword  with  his  own  hand.  He  received  it  with  his  left  hand, 
from  whence  we  are  told  he  had  the  surname  of  Scaevola ,  which 
signifies  left-handed;  and  thus  addressed  himself  to  Porsena: — 
“  i  our  threatenings  I  regarded  not,  but  am  conquered  by  your 
generosity,  and  out  of  gratitude  will  declare  to  you  what  no 
force  should  have  wrested  from  me.  There  are  three  hundred 
Romans  that  have  taken  the  same  resolution  with  mine,  who 
now  walk  about  your  camp,  watching  their  opportunity.  It 
was  my  lot  to  make  the  first  attempt,  and  I  am  not  sorry  that 
my  sword  was  directed  by  fortune  against  another  instead  of  a 
man  of  so  much  honour,  who,  as  such,  should  rather  be  a  friend 
than  an  enemy  to  the  Romans.”  Porsena  believed  this  account 
and  was  more  inclined  to  harken  to  terms,  not  so  much,  in 
my  opinion,  through  fear  of  the  three  hundred  assassins,  as 
admiration  of  the  dignity  of  the  Roman  valour.  All  authors 
call  this  man  Mucius  Scaevola,t  except  Athenodorus  Sandon, 
who,  in  a  work  addressed  to  Octavia,  sister  to  Augustus,  says 
he  was  named  Posthumius. 

Publicola,  who  did  not  look  upon  Porsena  as  so  bitter  an 
enemy  to  Rome,  but  that  he  deserved  to  be  taken  into  its  friend¬ 
ship  and  alliance,  was  so  far  from  refusing  to  refer  the  dispute 
wTith  Tarquin  to  his  decision,  that  he  was  really  desirous  of  it, 
and  several  times  offered  to  prove  that  Tarquin  was  the  worst 
of  men,  and  justly  deprived  of  the  crown.  When  Tarquin 
roughly  answrered,  that  he  would  admit  of  no  arbitrator,  much 
less  of  Porsena,  if  he  changed  his  mind,  and  forsook  his  alli¬ 
ance.  Porsena  was  offended,  and  began  to  entertain  an  ill 
opinion  of  him;  being  likewise  solicited  to  it  by  his  son  Aruns, 
who  used  all  his  interest  for  the  Romans,  he  was  prevailed 
upon  to  put  an  end  to  the  war,  on  condition  that  they  gave  up 
that  part  of  Tuscany  which  they  had  conquered,!  together  with 
the  prisoners,  and  received  their  deserters.  For  the  perform¬ 
ance  of  these  conditions,  they  gave  as  hostages  ten  young  men 


*  I ivy  says,  that  Porsena  threatened  Mucius  with  the  torture  by  fire,  to 
make  him  discover  his  accomplices;  whereupon  Mucius  thrust  his  hand  into 
che  flame,  to  let  him  see  that  he  was  not  to  be  intimidated. 

f  Mucius  was  rewarded  with  a  large  piece  of  ground  belonging  to  the 
public. 

t  The  Romans  were  required  to  reinstate  the  Veientes  in  the  possess'on 
of  seven  villages,  which  they  had  taken  from  them  in  former  wars. 


PUBLIC  OLA. 


217 


Juid  as  many  virgins,  of  the  best  families  in  Rome  ;  among  whoir. 
was  Valeria,  the  daughter  of  Publicola. 

Upon  the  faith  of  this  treaty,  Porsena  had  ceased  from  all 
acts  of  hostili  y,  when  the  Roman  virgins  went  down  to  bathe, 
at  a  place  where  the  bank,  forming  itself  in  a  crescent,  embra¬ 
ces  the  river  in  such  a  manner,  that  there  it  is  quite  calm  and 
undisturbed  with  waves.  As  no  guard  was  near,  and  they  saw 
none  passing  or  repassing,  they  had  a  violent  inclination  to 
swim  over,  notwithstanding  the  depth  and  strength  of  the 
stream.  Some  say  one  of  them,  named  Cloelia,  passed  it  on 
horseback,  and  env/.:ra£"d  the  othei  irgins  as  they  swam. 
When  they  came  a"e  lo  Publicola,  he  neither  commended  nor 
approved  their  exploit,  b*  t  was  grieved  to  think  he  should 
appear  unequal  to  Porsena  in  point  of  honour,  and  that  this 
daring  enterprise  of  the  virgins  should  make  the  Romans  sus¬ 
pected  of  unfair  proceeding.  He  took  them,  therefore,  and 
sent  them  back  to  Porsena.  Tarquin,  having  timely  intelli¬ 
gence  of  this,  '.aid  an  ambuscade  for  them,  and  attacked  their 
convoy.  They  defended  themselves,  though  greatly  inferior 
in  number;  and  Valeria,  the  daughter  of  Publicola,  broke 
through  them  as  tiny  were  engaged,  with  three  servants,  who 
conducted  her  le  to  Torsena's  camp.  As  the  skirmish  was 
not  yet  decided,  nor  the  danger  over,  Aruns,  the  son  of  Por¬ 
sena,  being  informed  of  it,  marched  up  with  all  speed,  put  the 
enemy  to  flight,  and  rescued  the  Romans.  When  Porsena  saw 
the  virgins  returned,  he  demanded  which  of  them  was  she  that 
proposed  the  design,  and  set  the  example.  When  he  under 
stood  that  Cloelia  was  the  person,  he  treated  her  wTith  great 
politeness,  and  commanding  one  of  his  own  horses  to  be 
brought,  with  very  elegant  trappings,  he  made  her  a  present  of 
it.  Those  that  say  Cloelia  was  the  only  one  that  passed  the 
river  on  horseback,  allege  this  as  a  proof.  Others  say  no  sucli 
consequence  can  be  drawn  from  it,  and  that  it  was  nothing 
more  than  a  mark  of  honour  to  her  from  the  Tuscan  king,  for 
her  bravery.  An  equestrian  siatue  of  her  stands  in  the  Via 
sacra ,*  where  it  leads  to  mount  Palatine;  yet  some  will  have 
even  this  to  be  Valeria’s  statue,  not  Cloelia’s. 

Porsena,  thus  reconciled  to  the  Romans,  gave  many  proofs 
of  his  greatness  of  mind.  Among  the  rest,  he  ordered  the 
Tuscans  to  carry  off  nothing  but  their  arms,  and  to  leave  their 
camp  full  of  provisions,  and  many  other  things  of  value,  for 
the  Romans.  Hence  it  is,  that  even  in  our  times,  whenever 
there  is  a  sale  of  goods  belonging  to  the  public,  they  are  cried 


*  Dionysius  of  Harlicarnassus  tells  us,  in  express  terms,  that  in  his  time, 
that  is,  in  the  reign  of  Augustus,  there  were  no  remains  of  that  statue,  il 
having*  been  consumed  by  fire. 

Vol.  i. - 2  G 


20 


218 


PUBLICOLA. 


first  as  the  goods  of  Porsena,  to  eternize  the  memory  ot  hu 
generosity.  A  brazen  statue,  of  rude  and  antique  workman¬ 
ship,  was  also  erected  to  his  honour,  near  the  senate-house.* 

After  this,  the  Sabines  invading  the  Roman  territory,  Mar¬ 
cus  Valerius,  brother  to  Publicola,  and  Posthumius  Tubertus, 
were  elected  consuls.  As  every  important  action  was  still  con¬ 
ducted  by  the  advice  and  assistance  of  Publicola,  Marcus  gain¬ 
ed  two  great  battles;  in  the  second  of  which  he  killed  "thir¬ 
teen  thousand  of  the  enemy,  without  the  loss  of  one  Roman. 
F or  this  he  was  not  only  rewarded  with  a  triumph,  but  a  house 
was  built  for  him  at  the  public  expense  on  mount  Palatine. 
And  whereas  the  doors  of  other  houses  at  that  time  opened 
inwards,  the  street  door  of  that  house  was  made  to  open  out¬ 
wards,  to  show  by  such  an  honourable  distinction,  that  he  was 
always  ready  to  receive  any  proposal  for  the  public  service,  t 
All  the  doors  in  Greece,  they  tell  us,  were  formerly  made  to 
open  so;  which  they  prove  from  those  passages  in  the  come¬ 
dies,  where  it  is  mentioned,  that  those  that  went  out,  knocked 
loud  on  the  inside  of  the  doors  first,  to  give  warning  to  such 
as  passed  by,  or  stood  before  them,  lest  the  doors  in  opening 
should  dash  against  them. 

The  year  following,  Publicola  was  appointed  consul  the 
fourth  time,  because  a  confederacy  between  the  Sabines  and 
Latins  threatened  a  war;  and  at  the  same  time;  the  city  was 
oppressed  with  superstitious  terrors  on  account  of  the  imper¬ 
fect  births,  and  general  abortions  among  the  women.  Publi¬ 
cola,  having  consulted  the  Sibyl’s  books  upon  it,f  offered  sa¬ 
crifice  to  Pluto,  and  renewed  certain  games  that  had  formerly 
been  instituted  by  the  direction  of  the  Delphic  oracle.  When 

*  The  senate  likewise  sent  an  embassy  to  him,  with  a  present  of  a  throne 
adorned  with  ivory,  a  sceptre,  a  crown  of  gold,  and  a  triumphal  robe. 

f  Posthumius  had  his  share  in  the  triumph,  as  well  as  in  the  achievements. 

i  An  unknown  woman  is  said  to  have  come  to  Tarquin  with  nine  volumes 
of  oracles,  written  by  the  Sibyl  of  Cuma,  for  which  she  demanded  a  very 
considerable  price.  Tarquin  refusing  to  purchase  them  at  her  rate,  she 
burnt  three  of  them,  and  then  asked  the  same  price  for  the  remaining  six. 
Her  proposal  being  rejected  with  scorn,  she  burnt  three  more,  and,  not- 
withsta  iding,  still  insisted  on  her  first  price.  Tarquin,  surprised  at  the 
novelty  of  the  thing,  put  the  books  in  the  hands  of  the  augurs  to  be  exam¬ 
ined,  who  advised  him  to  purchase  them  at  any  rate.  Accordingly  he  did, 
and  appointed  two  persons  of  distinction,  styled  Duumviri,  to  be  guardians 
of  them,  who  locked  them  up  in  a  vault  under  the  temple  of  Jupiter  Capi- 
tolinus,  and  there  they  were  kept  till  they  were  burnt  with  the  temple  it¬ 
self.  These  officers,  whose  number  was  afterwards  increased,  consulted 
the  Sibylline  books  by  direction  of  the  senate,  when  some  dangerous  sedi¬ 
tion  was  likely  to  break  out,  when  the  Roman  armies  had  been  defeated, 
or  when  any  of  those  prodigies  appeared  which  were  thought  fatal.  They 
also  presided  over  the  sacrifices  and  shows,  which  they  appointed  to  appease 
the  wrath  of  heaven. 


PUBLICOLA. 


219 


he  had  revived  the  city  with  the  pleasing  hope  that  the  gods 
were  appeased,  he  prepared  to  arm  against  the  menaces  of 
men;  for  there  appeared  to  be  a  formidable  league  and  strong 
armament  against  him.  Among  the  Sabines,  Appius  Clausus 
was  a  man  of  an  opulent  fortune,  and  remarkable  personal 
strength;  famed,  moreover,  for  his  virtues,  and  the  force  of 
his  eloquence.  What  is  the  fate  of  all  great  men,  to  be  per¬ 
secuted  by  envy,  was  likewise  his;  and  his  opposing  the  war, 
gave  a  handle  to  malignity  to  insinuate  that  he  wanted  to 
strengthen  the  Roman  power,  in  order  the  more  easily  to  en¬ 
slave  his  own  country.  Perceiving  that  the  populace  gave  a 
willing  ear  to  these  calumnies,  and  that  he  was  become  obnox¬ 
ious  to  the  abettors  of  the  war,  he  was  apprehensive  of  an 
impeachment;  but  being  powerfully  supported  by  his  friends 
and  relations,  he  bade  his  enemies  defiance.  This  delayed  the 
war.  Publicola  making  it  his  business  not  only  to  get  intelli¬ 
gence  of  this  sedition,  but  also  to  encourage  and  inflame  it, 
sent  proper  persons  to  Appius,  to  tell  him, — “That  he  was 
sensible  he  was  a  man  of  too  much  goodness  and  integrity,  to 
avenge  himself  of  his  countrymen,  though  greatly  injured  by 
them,  but  if  he  chose,  for  his  security,  to  come  over  to  the 
Romans,  and  get  out  of  the  way  of  his  enemies,  he  should 
find  such  a  reception,  both  in  public  and  private,  as  was  suita 
ble  to  his  virtue,  and  the  dignity  of  Rome.”  Appius  consi¬ 
dered  this  proposal  with  great  attention,  and  the  necessity  of 
his  affairs  prevailed  with  him  to  accept  of  it.  He  therefore 
persuaded  his  friends,  and  they  influenced  many  others,  so  that 
five  thousand  men  of  the  most  peaceable  disposition  of  any 
among  the  Sabines,  with  their  families,  removed  with  him  to 
Rome.  Publicola,  who  was  prepared  for  it,  received  them  in 
the  most  friendly  and  hospitable  manner,  admitted  them  to  the 
freedom  of  the  city;  and  gave  them  two  acres  of  land  a-piece, 
by  the  river  Anio.  To  Appius  he  gave  twenty-five  acres,  and 
a  seat  in  the  senate.  This  laid  the  foundation  of  his  greatness 
in  the  republic;  and  he  used  the  advantage  with  so  much  pru¬ 
dence,  as  to  rise  to  the  first  rank  in  power  and  authority.  The 
CU.udian  family,*  descended  from  him,  is  as  illustrious  as  any 
in  Rome. 

Though  the  disputes  among  the  Sabines  were  decided  by 
thu  migration,  the  demagogues  would  not  suffer  them  to  rest, 
representing  it  as  a  matter  of  great  disgrace,  if  Appius,  now 

*  There  were  two  families  of  the  Claudii  in  Rome;  one  patrician,  and  the 
other  plebeian.  The  first  had  the  surname  of  Fulcher,  and  the  other  of 
Marcellus.  In  course  of  time  the  patrician  family  produced  twenty-three 
consuls,  five  dictators,  and  seven  censors,  and  obtained  two  triumphs,  anc 
two  ovations.  The  emperor  Tiberius  was  descended  of  this  family. 


22C 


PUBLICOLA. 


a  deserter  and  an  enemy,  should  be  able  to  obstruct  then 
taking  vengeance  of  the  Romans, ,  when  he  could  not  preven- 
it  by  his  presence.  They  advanced,  the  efore,  with  a  great 
army,  and  encamped  near  Eidense.  Having  ordered  two 
thousand  men  to  lie  in  ambush  in  the  shrubby  and  hollow 
places  before  Rome,  they  appointed  .a.  few  horse  at  day-break 
to  ravage  the  country  up  to  the  very  gates,  and  then  to  retreat; 
till  they  drew  the  enemy  into  the  ambuscade.  But  Publicola, 
getting  information  that  very  day  of  these  particulars  from  de¬ 
serters,  prepared  himself  accordingly,  and  made  a  disposition 
of  his  forces.  Posthumius  Balbus,  his  son-in-law,  went  out 
with  three  thousand  men,  as  it  began  to  grow  dark,  and  hav¬ 
ing  taken  possession  of  the  summits  of  the  hills  under  which 
the  Sabines  had  concealed  themselves,  watched  his  opportuni¬ 
ty.  His  colleague  Lucretius,  with  the  lightest  and  most  ac¬ 
tive  of  the  Romans,  was  appointed  to  attack  the  Sabine  caval¬ 
ry,  as  they  were  driving  ofF  the  cattle,  while  himself,  with  the 
rest  of  the  forces,  took  a  large  compass,  and  enclosed  the 
enemy’s  rear.  The  morning  happened  to  be  very  foggy, 
when  Posthumius,  at  dawn,  with  loud  shouts,  fell  upon  the 
ambuscade  from  the  heights,  Lucretius  charged  the  horse  in 
their  retreat,  and  Publicola  attacked  the  enemy’s  camp.  The 
Sabines  were  every  where  worsted  and  put  to  the  rout.  As  the 
Romans  met  not  with  the  least  resistance,  the  slaughter  was 
prodigious.  It  is  clear,  that  the  vain  confidence  of  the  Sa¬ 
bines  was  the  principal  cause  of  their  ruin.  While  one  par' 
thought  the  other  was  safe,  they  did  not  stand  upon  their  de¬ 
fence;  those  in  the  camp  ran  towards  the  corps  that  was  placed 
in  ambuscade,  while  they,  in  their  turn,  endeavoured  to  re- 

fain  the  camp.  Thus  they  fell  in  with  each  other  in  great 
isorder,  and  in  mutual  want  of  that  assistance  which  neither 
was  able  to  give.  The  Sabines  would  have  been  entirely  cut 
off,  had  not  the  city  of  Fidenae  been  so  near,  which  proved 
an  asylum  to  some,  particularly  those  that  fled  when  the  camp 
was  taken.  Such  as  did  not  take  refuge  there,  were  either 
destroyed  or  taken  prisoners. 

The  Romans,  though  accustomed  to  ascribe  every  great 
jyent  to  the  interposition  of  the  gods,  gave  the  credit  of"  this? 
victory  solely  to  the  general;  and  the  first  thing  the  soldiers 
were  heard  to  say,  was,  that  Publicola  had  put  the  enemy  in 
,  ieir  hands,  lame,  blind,  am.  almost  bound  for  the  slaughter. 
The  people  were  enriched  with  the  plunder  and  the  sale  of 
jrisoners.  As  for  Publicola,  he  was  honoured  with  a  triumph; 
and  having  surrendered  the  administration  to  the  succeeding 
consuls,  he  died  soon  after;  thus  finishing  his  life  in  circum¬ 
stances  esteemed  the  happiest  and  mo^t  glorious  that  man  can 


FUBLICOLA. 


22  i 

attain  to.*  The  people,  as  if  they  had  done  nothing  to  requite 
his  merit  in  his  lifetime,  decreed  that  his  funeral  should  be 
solemnized  at  the  public  charge;  and  to  make  it  the  more 
honourable,  every  one  contributed  a  piece  of  money  called 
Quadrans.  Besides,  the  women,  out  of  particular  regard  tc 
his  memory,  continued  the  mourning  for  him  a  whole  year. 
By  an  order  of  the  citizens,  his  body  was  likewise  interred 
within  the  city,  near  the  place  called  Velia ,  and  all  his  family 
were  to  have  a  burying  place  there.  At  present,  indeed,  none 
ot  his  descendants  are  interred  in  that  ground ;  they  only  car¬ 
ry  the  corpse,  and  set  it  down  there,  when  one  of  the  attend^- 
ants  puts  a  lighted  torch  under  it,  which  he  immediately  takes 
back  again.  Thus  they  claim  by  that  act  the  right,  but  waive 
the  privilege;  for  the  body  is  taken  awav,  and  interred  with¬ 
out  the  walls. 

*  He  was  the  most  virtuous  citizen,  one  of  the  greatest  generals,  and  the 
most  popular  consul  Rome  ever  had.  As  he  had  taken  more  care  to  trans¬ 
mit  his  virtues  to  his  posterity,  than  to  enrich  them;  and  as,  notwithstanding 
the  frugality  of  his  life,  and  the  great  offices  he  had  borne,  there  was  not 
found  money  enough  in  his  house  to  defray  the  charges  of  his  funeral,  he 
was  buried  at  the  expense  of  the  public.  His  poverty  is  a  circumstance 
which  Plutarch  should  have  mentioned,  because  a  funeral  at  the  public 
charge  was  an  honour  sometimes  paid  to  the  rich. 


SOLON  AND  PUBLICOLA 


COMPARED 


There  is  something  singular  in  this  parallel,  and  what  has 
not  occurred  to  us  in  any  other  of  the  lives  we  have  written, 
that  Publicola  should  exemplify  the  maxims  of  Solon,  and  that 
Solon  should  proclaim  beforehand  the  happiness  of  Publicola. 
For  the  definition  of  happiness  which  Solon  gave  Croesus,  is 
more  applicable  to  Publicola  than  to  Tellus.  It  is  true,  he  pro¬ 
nounces  Tellus  happy  on  account  of  his  virtue,  his  valuable 
children,  and  glorious  death;  yet  he  mentions  him  not  in  his 
poems  as  eminently  distinguished  by  his  virtue,  his  children, 
or  his  employments.  For  Publicola,  in  his  lifetime,  attained 
the  highest  reputation  and  authority  among  the  Romans,  by 
means  of  his  virtues;  and,  after  his  death,  his  family  was 
reckoned  among  the  most  honourable;  the  houses  of  the  Pub- 
licolse,  the  Messalae,  and  Valerii,*  illustrious  for  the  space  ot 
six  hundred  years, t  still  acknowledging  him  as  the  fountain 
of  their  honour.  Tellus,  like  a  brave  man,  keeping  his  post, 
and  fighting  to  the  last,  fell  by  the  enemy’s  hand;  whereas 
Publicola,  after  having  slain  his  enemies  (a  much  happier  cir¬ 
cumstance  than  to  be  slain  by  them),  after  seeing  his  country 
victorious,  through  his  conduct  as  consul  and  as  general,  after 
triumphs  and  all  other  marks  of  honour,  died  that  death  which 
Solon  had  so  passionately  wished  for,  and  declared  so  happy.  ± 
Solon,  again,  in  his  answer  to  Mimnermus,  concerning  the 
period  of  human  life,  thus  exclaims: — 


*  That  is,  the  other  Valerii,  viz.  the  Maximi,  the  Corvini ,  the  Fotiii,  the 
Lev  ini,  and  the  Flacci. 

j-  It  appears  from  this  passage,  that  Plutarch  wrote  this  life  about  the  be¬ 
ginning  of  Trajan’s  reign. 

t  Cicero  thought  this  wish  of  Solon’s  unsuitable  to  so  wise  a  man,  ai  d 
preferred  to  it  that  of  the  poet  Ennius,  who,  pleasing  himself  with  the 
thought  of  an  immortality  on  earth  as  a  poet,  desired  to  die  unlameiued. 
Cicero  rejoiced  in  the  same  prospect  as  an  orator.  The  passion  of  immor¬ 
tality  is  indeed  a  natural  one;  but  as  the  chief  part  of  our  happiness  consists 
in  the  exercise  of  the  benevolent  aff  ections,  in  giving  and  receiving  sincere 
testimonies  of  regard,  the  undoubted  expressions  of  that  regard  must  sooth 
the  pains  of  a  dying  man,  and  comfort  him  with  the  reflection,  that  he  haj 
not  been  wanting  in  the  offices  of  humanity. 


SOLON  AND  FUBL1COLA  COMPARED.  22li 


Let  friendship’s  faithful  heart  att'en  l  my  bier. 

Heave  the  sad  sigh,  and  drop  the  pitying  tear. 

And  Publicolahad  this  felicity;  for  he  was  lamented,  not  only 
oy  his  friends  and  relations,  but  by  the  whole  city  ;  thousands 
attended  his  funeral  with  tears,  with  regret,  with  the  deepest 
sorrow;  and  the  Roman  matrons  mourned  for  him,  as  for  the 
loss  of  a  son,  a  brother,  or  a  common  parent. 

Another  wish  of  Solon’s  is  thus  expressed: — 

The  flow  of  riches  though  desir’d. 

Life’s  real  goods,  if  well  acquir’d. 

Unjustly  let  me  never  gain, 

Lest  vengeance  follow  in  their  train. 

And  Publicola  not  only  acquired,  but  employed  his  riches  ho¬ 
nourably,  for  he  was  a  generous  benefactor  to  the  poor;  so  that 
if  Solon  was  the  wisest,  Publicola  was  the  happiest  of  human 
kind.  What  the  former  had  wished  for  as  the  greatest  and 
most  desirable  of  blessings,  the  latter  actually  possessed,  and 
continued  to  enjoy. 

Thus  Solon  did  honour  to  Publicola,  and  he  to  Solon  in  his 
turn;  for  he  considered  him  as  the  most  excellent  pattern  that 
could  be  proposed,  in  regulating  a  democracy;  and,  like  him, 
laying  aside  the  pride  of  power,  he  rendered  it  gentle  and  ac¬ 
ceptable  to  all.  He  also  made  use  of  several  of  Solon’s  laws; 
for  he  empowered  the  people  to  elect  their  own  magistrates, 
and  left  an  appeal  to  them  from  the  sentence  of  other  courts, 
as  the  Athenian  lawgiver  had  done.  He  did  not,  indeed, 
with  Solon,  create  a  new  senate,*  but  he  almost  doubled  the 
number  of  that  which  he  found  in  being. 

His  reason  for  appointing  quaestors  or  treasurers  was,  that  if 
the  consul  was  a  worthy  man,  he  might  have  leisure  to  attend 
to  greatei  affairs;  if  unworthy,  that  he  might  not  have  greater 
opportunities  of  injustice,  when  both  the  government  and  trea¬ 
sury  were  under  his  direction. 

Publicola’s  aversion  to  tyrants  was  stronger  than  that  of  So¬ 
lon;  for  the  latter  made  every  attempt  to  set  up  arbitrary  pow¬ 
er  punishable  by  law;  but  the  former  made  it  death  without 
the  formality  of  trial.  Solon,  indeed,  justly  and  reasonably 
plumes  himself  upon  refusing  absolute  power,  when  both  the 

*  By  we  apprehend  that  Plutarch  here  rather  means  the  senate  or 
council  of  four  hundred ,  than  the  council  of  areopagus.  The  four  hundred 
had  the  prior  cognizance  of  all  that  was  to  come  before  the  people,  and  no¬ 
thing  could  be  proposed  to  the  general  assembly  till  digested  by  them;  so 
that,  as  far  as  he  was  able,  he  provided  against  a  thirst  of  arbitrary  power  in 
the  rich,  and  a  desire  of  licentious  freedom  in  the  commons;  the  areopagus 
eing  a  check  upon  the  former,  as  the  senate  was  a  curb  upon  the  latter. 


224 


SOLON  AND  PUBLICOLA  COMPARED. 


state  of  affairs  and  the  inclinations  of  the  people  would  have 
readily  admitted  it;  and  yet  it  was  no  less  glorious  for  Publico¬ 
la,  when,  finding  the  consular  authority  too  despotic,  he  render¬ 
ed  it  milder  and  more  popular,  and  did  not  stretch  it  so  far  as 
he  might  have  done.  That  this  was  the  best  method  of  go¬ 
verning,  Solon  seems  to  have  been  sensible  before  him,  when 
he  says  of  a  republic: — 

The  reins  nor  strictly  nor  too  loosely  hold, 

And  safe  the  car  of  slippery  power  you  guide. 

But  the  annulling  of  debts  was  peculiar  to  Solon,  and  was,  in¬ 
deed,  the  most  effectual  way  to  support  the  liberty  of  the  peo¬ 
ple;  for  laws  intended  to  establish  an  equality  would  be  of  no 
avail,  while  the  poor  were  deprived  of  the  benefit  of  that  equa¬ 
lity  by  their  debts.  Where  they  seemed  most  to  exercise  their 
liberty,  in  offices,  in  debates,  and  in  deciding  causes,  there 
they  were  most  enslaved  to  the  rich,  and  entirely  under  their 
control.  What  is  more  considerable  in  this  case  is,  that, 
though  the  cancelling  of  debts  generally  produces  seditions, 
Solon  seasonably  applied  it,  as  a  strong,  though  hazardous 
medicine,  to  remove  the  sedition  then  existing.  The  mea¬ 
sure,  too,  lost  its  infamous  and  obnoxious  nature,  when  made 
use  of  by  a  man  of  Solon’s  probity  and  character. 

If  we  consider  the  whole  administration  of  each,  Solon’s  was 
more  illustrious  at  first.  He  was  an  original,  and  followed  no 
example;  besides,  by  himself,  without  a  colleague,  he  effected 
many  great  things  for  the  public  advantage.  But  Publicola’s 
fortune  was  more  to  be  admired  at  last;  for  Solon  lived  to  see 
his  own  establishment  overturned,  whereas  that  of  Publicola 
preserved  the  state  in  good  order  to  the  time  of  the  civil  wars. 
And  no  wonder;  since  the  former,  as  soon  as  he  had  enacted 
his  laws,  left  them  inscribed  on  tables  of  wood,  without  any  one 
to  support  their  authority,  and  departed  from  Athens;  whilst 
the  latter,  remaining  at  Rome,  and  continuing  in  the  magis¬ 
tracy,  thoroughly  established  and  secured  the  commonwealth. 

Solon  was  sensible  of  the  ambitious  designs  of  Pisistratus, 
and  desirous  to  prevent  their  being  put  in  execution;  but  he 
miscarried  in  the  attempt,  and  saw  a  tyrant  set  up.  On  the 
other  hand,  Publicola  demolished  kingly  power,  when  it  had 
been  established  for  some  ages,  and  was  at  a  formidable  height. 
He  was  equalled  by  Solon  in  virtue  and  patriotism,  but  he  had 
power  and  good  fortune  to  second  his  virtue,  which  the  other 
wanted. 

As  to  warlike  exploits,  there  is  a  considerable  difference;  for 
Daimachus  Plataeensis  does  not  even  attribute  that  enterprise 
against  the  Megarensians  to  Solon,  as  we  have  done;  whereas 


SOLON  AND  PUBLICOLA  COMPARED.  2Zj 

pulticola,  in  many  great  battles,  performed  the  duty  both  of 
a  general  and  a  private  soldier. 

Again;  if  we  compare  their  conduct  in  civil  affairs,  we  shall 
find  that  Solon,  only  acting  a  part,  as  it  were,  and  under  the 
form  of  a  maniac,  went  out  to  speak  concevning  the  recovery 
of  Salamis.  But  Publicola,  in  the  face  of  the  greatest  danger, 
rose  up  against  Tarquin,  detected  the  plot,  prevented  the  es¬ 
cape  of  the  vile  conspirators,  had  them  punished,  and  not  only 
e  xcluded  the  tyrants  from  the  city,  but  cut  up  their  hopes  by 
the  roots.  If  he  was  thus  vigorous  in  prosecuting  affairs  thal 
required  spirit,  resolution,  and  open  force,  he  was  still  more 
successful  in  negotiation  and  the  gentle  arts  of  persuasion; 
for,  by  his  address,  he  gained  Porsena,  whose  power  was  so 
formidable,  that  he  could  not  be  quelled  by  dint  of  arms,  and 
made  him  a  friend  to  Rome.  # 

But  here,  perhaps,  some  will  object,  that  Solon  recovered 
Salamis,  when  the  Athenians  had  given  it  up;  whereas  Publi¬ 
cola  surrendered  lands  that  the  Romans  were  in  possession  of. 
Our  judgment  of  actions,  however,  should  be  formed  accord¬ 
ing  to  the  respective  times  and  postures  of  affairs.  An  able 
politician,  to  manage  all  for  the  best,  varies  his  conduct  as  the 
present  occasion  requires;  often  quits  a  part,  to  save  the  whole; 
and,  by  yielding  in  small  matters,  secures  considerable  advan¬ 
tages.  Thus  Publicola,  by  giving  up  what  the  Romans  had 
lately  usurped,  saved  all  that  was  really  their  own:  and  at  a 
time  when  they  found  it  difficult  to  defend  their  city,  gained 
for  them  the  possession  of  the  besieger’s  camp.  In  effect,  by 
referring  his  cause  to  the  arbitration  of  the  enemy,  he  gained 
his  point,  and  with  that,  all  the  advantages  he  could  have  pro¬ 
posed  to  himself  by  a  victory;  for  Porsena  put  an  end  to  the 
Vvar,  and  left  the  Romans  all  the  provision  he  had  made  for 
t&urying  it  on,  induced  by  that  impression  of  their  virtue  and 
honour,  which  he  had  received  from  Publicola. 


Voi.  i.— 2H 


21 


THE 


LIFE  OF  THEMISTOCLES. 


The  family  of  Themistocles  was  too  obscure  to  raise  him  to 
distinction.  He  was  the  son  of  Neocles,  an  inferior  citizen  of 
Athens,  of  the  ward  of  Phrear,  and  the  tribe  of  Leontis.  By 
bis  mother’s  side,  he  is  said  to  have  been  illegitimate,*  accord 
g  to  the  following  verses: — 

Thong'll  born  in  Thrace,  Abrotonon  my  name. 

My  son  enrols  me  in  the  lists  of  fame, 

The  great  Themistocles. 

Yet  Phanias  writes,  that  the  mother  of  Themistocles  was  ci 
Caria,  not  of  Thrace,  and  that  her  name  was  not  Abrotonon, 
but  Euterpe.  Neanthes  mentions  Halicarnassus  as  the  city  to 
which  she  belonged.  But  be  that  as  it  may,  when  all  the  ille- 

Sitimate  youth  assembled  at  Cynosarges,  in  the  wrestling  ring 
edicated  to  Hercules,  without  the  gates,  which  was  appoint 
ed  for  that  purpose,  because  Hercules  himself  was  not  alto¬ 
gether  of  divine  extraction,  but  had  a  mortal  for  his  mother; 
Themistocles  found  means  to  persuade  some  of  the  young  no¬ 
blemen  to  go  to  Cynosarges,  and  take  their  exercise  with  him. 
This  was  an  ingenious  contrivance  to  take  away  the  distinc¬ 
tion  between  the  illegitimate  or  aliens,  and  the  legitimate, 
whose  parents  were  both  Athenians.  It  is  plain,  however, 
that  he  was  related  to  the  house  of  the  Lycomedae;t  for  Sb 
monides  informs  us,  that  when  a  chapelt  of  that  family  in  the 
ward  of  Phyle,  where  the  mysteries  of  Ceres  used  to  be  cele¬ 
brated,  was  burnt  down  by  the  barbarians,  Themistocles  re 
built  it,  and  adorned  it  with  pictures. 

It  appears,  that  when  a  boy,  he  was  full  of  spirit  and  fire, 
quick  of  apprehension,  naturally  inclined  to  bold  attempts,  and 
likely  to  make  a  great  statesman.  His  hours  of  leisure  and 

*  It  was  a  law  at  Athens,  that  every  citizen  who  had  a  foreigner  to  his  mo¬ 
ther,  should  be  deemed  a  bastard,  though  born  in  wedlock,  and  should  con¬ 
sequently  be  incapable  of  inheriting  his  father’s  estate. 

•f  The  Lycomedx  were  a  family  in  Athens,  who  (according  to  Pausanias) 
had  the  care  of  the  sacrifices  offered  to  Ceres;  and  in  that  Chapel  which 
Theseus  rebuilt,  initiations  and  other  mysteries  were  celebrated, 
i  Ti Msmyov. 


THEMJ  TOCLES. 


227 


\  nation  he  spent  not,  like  other  boys,  in  idleness  and  play, 
b  At  he  was  always  inventing  and  composing  declamations;  the 
subjects  of  which  were  either  the  impeachment  or  defence  ot 
some  of  his  school-fellows;  so  that  his  master  would  often  say, 
“  Boy,  you  will  be  nothing  common  or  indifferent;  you  will 
either  be  a  blessing  or  a  curse  to  the  community.”  As  for 
moral  philosophy,  and  the  polite  arts,  he  learned  them  but 
slowly,  and  with  little  satisfaction;  but  instructions  in  politi¬ 
cal  knowledge,  and  the  administration  of  public  affairs,  he  re 
ceived  with  an  attention  above  his  years,  Decause  they  suited 
his  genius.  When,  therefore,  he  was  laughed  at,  long  after, 
in  company  where  free  scope  was  given  to  raillery,  by  persons 
who  passed  as  more  accomplished  in  what  was  called  genteel 
breeding,  he  v/as  obliged  to  answer  them  with  some  asperity 
“  * * * §Tis  true  I  never  learned  how  to  tune  a  harp,  or  play  upon 
a  lute,  but  I  know  how  to  raise  a  small  and  inconsiderable  city 
to  glory  and  greatness.” 

Stesimbrotus,  indeed,  informs  us,  that  Themistocles  studied 
natural  philosophy  both  under  Anaxagoras  and  Melissus.  But 
in  this  he  errs  against  chronology;*  for  when  Pericles,  who 
was  much  younger  than  Themistocles,  besieged  Samos,  Melis¬ 
sus  defended  it,  and  Anaxagoras  lived  with  Pericles.  Those 
seem  to  deserve  more  attention,  who  say  that  Themistocles 
was  a  follower  of  Mnesiphilus  the  Phrearian;  who  was  neithei 
orator  nor  natural  philosopher,  but  a  professor  of  what  was 
then  called  wisdom,!  which  consisted  in  a  knowledge  of  the 
arts  of  government,  and  the  practical  part  of  political  pru¬ 
dence.  This  was  a  sect  formed  upon  the  principles  of  Solon,! 
and  descending  in  succession  from  him;  but  when  the  science 
of  government  came  to  be  mixed  with  forensic  arts,  and  pass¬ 
ed  from  action  to  mere  words,  its  professors,  instead  of  sages, 
were  called  Sophists.  §  Themistocles,  however,  was  conver- 

*  Anaxagoras  was  born  in  the  first  year  of  the  70th  Olympiad;  Themisto¬ 
cles  won  the  battle  of  Salamis  the  first  year  of  the  75th  Olympiad;  and  Me¬ 
lissus  defended  Samos  against  Pericles  the  last  year  of  the  84th  Olympiad. 
Themistocles,  therefore,  could  neither  study  under  Anaxagoras,  who  was 
only  twenty  years  old  when  that  general  gained  the  battle  of  Salamis,  nor 
yet  under  Melissus,  who  did  not  begin  to  flourish  till  thirty-six  years  after 
that  battle. 

j-  The  first  sages  were  in  reality  great  politicians,  who  gave  rules  and  pre¬ 
cepts  for  the  government  of  communities.  Thales  was  the  first  who  earned 
his  speculations  into  physics. 

t  During  the  space  of  about  a  hundred,  or  a  hundred  and  twenty  years. 

§  The  Sophists  were  rather  rhetoricians  than  philosophers,  skilled  in 
v/ords,  but  superficial  in  knowledge,  as  Diogenes  Laertius  informs  us.  Pro¬ 
tagoras,  who  flourished  about  the  84th  Olympiad,  a  little  before  the  birth 
of  Plato,  was  the  first  who  had  the  appellation  of  Sophist.  15ut  Socrates, 
who  was  more  conversant  in  morality  than  in  politics,  physics,  or  rhetoric, 
and  who  was  desirous  to  improve  the  world  rather  in  practice  than  in  theo- 


228 


THEMISTOCLES. 


sant  in  public  business,  when  he  attended  the  lectures  of 
Mnesiphilus. 

In  the  first  sallies  of  youth,  he  was  irregular  and  unsteady, 
as  he  followed  his  own  disposition,  without  any  moral  re* 
straints.  He  lived  in  extremes,  and  those  extremes  were  of¬ 
ten  of  the  worst  kind.*  But  he  seemed  to  apologize  for  this 
afterwards,  when  he  observed,  that — “The  wildest  colts  make 
the  best  horses,  when  they  come  to  be  properly  broke  and 
managed.  ”  The  stories,  however,  which  some  tell  us,  of  his 
father  disinheriting  him,  and  his  mother  laying  violent  hands 
upon  herself,  because  she  could  not  bear  the  thoughts  of  her 
son’s  infamy,  seem  to  be  quite  fictitious.  Others,  on  the  con¬ 
trary,  say,  that  his  father,  to  dissuade  him  from  accepting  any 
public  employment,  showed  him  some  old  galleys  that  lay 
worn  out  and  neglected  on  the  sea-shore,  just  as  the  populace 
neglect  their  leaders,  when  they  have  no  farther  service  for 
them. 

Themistocles  had  an  early  and  violent  inclination  for  public 
business,  and  was  so  strongly  smitten  with  the  love  of  glory, 
with  an  ambition  of  the  highest  station,  that  he  involved  him 
self  in  troublesome  quarrels  with  persons  of  the  first  rank  and 
influence  in  the  state,  particularly  with  Aristides,  the  son  of 
Lysimachus,  who  always  opposed  him.  Their  enmity  began 
early,  but  the  cause,  as  Ariston  the  philosopher  relates,  was 
nothing  more  than  their  regard  for  Stesileus  of  Teos.  After 
this,  their  disputes  continued  about  public  affairs;  and  the  dis 
similarity  of  their  lives  and  manners  naturally  added  to  it. 
Aristides  was  of  a  mild  temper,  and  great  probity.  He 
managed  the  concerns  of  government  with  inflexible  justice, 
not  with  a  view  to  ingratiate  himself  with  the  people,  or  to 
promote  his  own  glory,  but  solely  for  the  advantage  and  safety 
of  the  state.  He  was  therefore  necessarily  obliged  to  oppose 
Themistocles,  and  to  prevent  his  promotion,  because  he  fre¬ 
quently  put  the  people  upon  unwarrantable  enterprises,  and 
was  ambitious  of  introducing  great  innovations.  Indeed, 
Themistocles  was  so  carried  away  with  the  love  of  glory,  so 
immoderately  desirous  of  distinguishing  himself  by  some  great 
action,  that,  though  he  was  very  young  when  the  battle  of 


ry,  modestly  took  the  name  of  Philosophos ,  i.  e.  a  lover  of  wisdom ,  and  not 
that  of  ISophos,  i.  e.  a  sage  or  wise  man . 

*  Idomeneus  says,  that  one  morning*  Themistocles  harnessed  four  naked 
courtezans  in  a  chariot,  and  made  them  draw  him  across  the  Ceramicus,  in 
the  sight  of  all  the  people  who  were  there  assembled;  and  that  at  a  time 
when  the  Athenians  were  perfect  strangers  to  debauchery,  either  in  wine 
or  women.  But  if  that  vice  was  then  so  little  known  in  Athens,  how  could 
there  be  found  four  prostitutes  impudent  enough  to  be  exposed  in  that  man¬ 
ner  ? 


THEMISTGCLES. 


22ft 

Marathon  was  fought,  and  when  the  generalship  of  Miltiades 
was  every  where  extolled,  yet  even  then  he  was  observed  tc 
keep  much  alone,  to  be  very  pensive,  to  watch  whole  nights, 
and  not  to  attend  the  usual  entertainments.  When  he  was 
asked  the  reason  by  his  friends,  who  wondered  at  the  change, 
he  said, — “  The  trophies  of  Miltiades  would  not  suffer  him  to 
sleep.”  While  others  imagined  the  defeat  of  the  Persians  at 
Marathon,  had  put  an  end  to  the  war,  he  considered  it  as  the 
beginning  of  greater  conflicts;*  and,  for  the  benefit  of  Greece, 
he  was  always  preparing  himself  and  the  Athenians  against 
those  conflicts,  because  he  foresaw  them  at  a  distance. t 

And,  in  the  first  place,  whereas  the  Athenians  had  used  to 
share  the  revenue  of  the  silver  mines  of  Laurium  among  them¬ 
selves,  he  alone  had  the  courage  to  make  a  motion  to  the,  peo¬ 
ple,  that  they  should  divide  them  in  that  manner  no  longer, 
but  build  with  them  a  number  of  galleys,  to  be  employed  in  a 
war  against  the  iEginetae,  who  then  made  a  considerable  figure 
in  Greece,  and,  by  means  of  their  numerous  navy,  were  mas¬ 
ters  of  the  sea.  By  seasonably  stirring  up  the  resentment  and 
emulation  of  his  countrymen  against  these  islanders,  J  he  the 
more  easily  prevailed  with  them  to  provide  themselves  with 
ships,  than  if  he  had  displayed  the  terrors  of  Darius  and  the 
Persians,  who  were  at  a  greater  distance,  and  of  whose  coming 
they  had  no  great  apprehensions.  With  this  money  a  hundred 
galleys,  with  three  banks  of  oars,  were  built,  which  afterwards 
fought  against  Xerxes.  From  this  step  he  proceeded  to  others, 
in  order  to  draw  the  attention  of  the  Athenians  to  maritime 
affairs,  and  to  convince  them,  that  though  by  land  they  were 
not  able  to  cope  with  their  neighbours,  yet  with  a  naval  force 
they  might  not  only  repel  the  barbarians,  but  hold  all  Greece 
in  subjection.  Thus  of  good  land  forces,  as  Plato  says,  he 
made  them  mariners  and  seamen,  and  brought  upon  himself 

*  He  did  not  question  but  Darius  would  at  length  perceive,  that  the  only 
way  to  deal  with  the  Greeks,  was  to  attack  them  vigorously  by  sea,  where 
they  could  make  the  least  opposition. 

f  The  two  principal  qualifications  of  a  general,  are  a  quick  and  compre¬ 
hensive  view  of  what  is  to  be  done  upon  any  present  emergency,  and  a  hap¬ 
py  foresight  of  what  is  to  come.  Themistocles  possessed  both  these  quali¬ 
fications  in  a  great  degree.  With  respect  to  the  latter,  Thucydides  gives 
him  this  eulogium,  it i  txwctov  yvwjuivx  ci^icrcs  tiKct;rne. 

t  Plutarch  in  this  place  follows  Herodotus.  But  Thucydides  is  express, 
that  Themistocles  availed  himself  of  both  these  arguments,  the  apprehensions 
which  the  Athenians  were  under  of  the  return  of  the  Persians,  as  well  as  the 
war  against  the  iEginetre.  Indeed  he  could  not  neglect  so  powerful  an  in¬ 
ducement  to  strengthen  themselves  at  sea,  since,  according  to  Plato,  ac¬ 
counts  were  daily  brought  of  the  formidable  preparations  of  Darius;  and  up¬ 
on  his  death,  it  appears  that  Xerxes  inherited  all  his  father’s  rancour  against 
the  Greeks. 


21 


230 


TIIEMISTOCLES. 


the  aspersion  of  taking  from  his  countrymen  the  spear  and  the 
shield,  and  sending  them  to  the  bench  and  the  oar.  Stesim- 
brotus  writes,  that  Themistocles  effected  this  in  spite  of  the 
opposition  of  Miltiades.  Whether  by  this  proceeding  he  cor¬ 
rupted  the  simplicity  of  the  Athenian  constitution,  is  a  specu 
lation  not  proper  to  be  indulged  here;  but  that  the  Greeks 
owed  their  safety  to  these  naval  applications,  and  that  those 
ships  re-established  the  city  of  Athens  after  it  had  been  ae- 
stroyed,  (to  omit  other  proofs)  Xerxes  himself  is  a  sufficient 
witness:  for,  after  his  defeat  at  sea,  he  was  no  longer  able  to 
make  head  against  the  Athenians,  though  his  land  forces  re- 
•mained  entire;  and  it  seems  to  me,  that  he  left  Mardonius  ra¬ 
ther  to  prevent  a  pursuit  than  with  any  hope  of  his  bringing 
Greece  into  subjection. 

Some  authors  write,  that  Themistocles  was  intent  upon  the 
acquisition  of  money,  with  a  view  to  spend  it  profusely;  and, 
indeed,  for  his  frequent  sacrifices,  and  the  splendid  manner  in 
which  he  entertained  strangers,  he  bad  need  of  a  large  supply. 
Yet  others,  on  the  contrary,  accuse  him  of  meanness  and  atten 
tion  to  trifles,  and  say,  he  even  sold  presents  that  were  made 
him  for  his  table.  Nay,  when  he  begged  a  colt  of  Philides, 
who  was  a  breeder  of  horses,  and  was  refused,  he  threatened, 
“  he  would  soon  make  a  Trojan  horse  of  his  house;’*  enigma¬ 
tically  hinting,  that  he  would  raise  up  troubles  and  impeach 
ments  against  him  from  some  of  his  own  family. 

In  ambition,  however,  he  had  no  equal;  for  when  he  was 
yet  young,  and  but  little  known,  he  prevailed  upon  Epicles  of 
Hermione,  a  performer  upon  the  lyre,  much  valued  by  the 
Athenians,  to  practise  at  his  house,  hoping  by  this  means  to 
draw  a  great  number  of  people  thither.  And  when  he  went  to 
the  Olympic  games,  he  endeavoured  to  equal  or  exceed  Cimon, 
in  the  elegance  of  his  table,  the  splendour  of  his  pavilions,  and 
other  expenses  of  his  train.  These  things,  however,  were  not 
agreeable  to  the  Greeks:  they  looked  upon  them  as  suitable  to 
a  young  man  of  a  noble  family;  but  when  an  obscure  person 
set  himself  up  so  much  above  his  fortune,  he  gained  nothing 
by  it  but  the  imputation  of  vanity.  He  exhibited  a  tragedy,* 
too,  at  his  own  expense,  and  gained  the  prize  with  his  trage¬ 
dians,  at  a  time  when  those  entertainments  were  pursued  with 
great  avidity  and  emulation.  In  memory  of  his  success,  he  put 
up  this  inscription: — “  Themistocles,  thePhrearian  exhibited 

*  Tragedy  at  this  time  was  just  arrived  at  perfection:  and  so  great  a  taste 
had  the  Athenians  for  this  kind  of  entertainment,  that  the  principal  persona 
in  the  commonwealth  could  not  oblige  them  more,  than  by  exhibiting  the  best 
tragedy  with  the  most  elegant  decorations.  Public  prizes  were  appointed 
for  those  that  excelled  in  this  respect;  and  it  was  matter  of  great  emulation 
to  gain  them. 


THEMISTOCLES. 


231 


the  tragedy,  Phrynichus  composed  it,* * * §  Adamantus  presided. ” 
This  gained  him  popularity;  and  what  added  to  it  was,  his 
charging  his  memory  with  the  names  of  the  citizens;  so  that 
he  readily  called  each  by  his  own.  He  was  an  impartial 
judge,  too,  in  the  causes  that  were  brought  before  him;  and 
Simonides  of  Ceost  making  an  unreasonable  request  to  him 
when  archon, \  he  answered: — “  Neither  would  you  be  a  good 
poet,  if  you  transgressed  the  rules  of  harmony;  nor  I  a  good 
magistrate,  if  I  granted  your  petition  contrary  to  law.”  Ano¬ 
ther  time  he  rallied  Simonides  for  “his  absurdity  in  abusing 
the  Corinthians,  who  inhabited  so  elegant  a  city;  and  hav¬ 
ing  his  own  picture  drawn,  when  he  had  so  ill-favoured  an 
aspect.” 

At  length,  having  attained  to  a  great  height  of  power  and 
popularity,  his  faction  prevailed,  and  he  procured  the  banish 
ment  of  Aristides  by  what  is  called  the  Ostracism.  § 

The  Medes  now  preparing  to  invade  Greece  again,  the  Athe¬ 
nians  considered  who  should  be  their  general;  and  many  (we 
are  told)  thinking  the  commission  dangerous,  declined  it. 
But  Epicydes,  the  son  of  Euphemides,  a  man  of  more  elo¬ 
quence  than  courage,  and  capable  withal  of  being  bribed,  so¬ 
licited  it,  and  was  likely  to  be  chosen.  Themistocles,  fearing 
the  consequence  would  be  fatal  to  the  public,  if  the  choice  fell 

*  Phrynichus  was  the  disciple  of  Thespis,  who  was  esteemed  the  inventor 
of  tragedy.  He  was  the  first  that  brought  female  actors  upon  the  stage. 
His  chief  plays  were  Action,  Alcestis,  and  the  Danaides.  JEschylus  was 
his  contemporary. 

\  Simonides  celebrated  the  battles  of  Marathon  and  Salamis  in  his  poems; 
and  was  the  author  of  several  odes  and  elegies:  some  of  which  are  still  ex¬ 
tant  and  well  known.  He  was  much  in  the  favour  of  Pausanias,  king  of  Spar¬ 
ta,  and  of  Hiero,  king  of  Sicily.  Plato  had  so  high  an  opinion  of  his  merit, 
that  he  gave  him  the  epithet  of  divine.  He  died  in  the  first  year  of  the  78th 
Olympiad,  at  almost  ninety  years  of  age;  so  that  he  was  very  near  fourscore 
when  he  described  the  battle  of  Salamis. 

t  The  former  translator  renders  av™  when  he  was  commander 

of  the  army ,  which  is  indeed  the  sense  of  it  a  little  below,  but  not  here 
Plutarch  uses  the  word  cvpawyoc  for  praetor ,  which  is  almost  synonymous  to 
archon.  And  in  this  passage  he  so  explains  it  himself.  Nor  should  I  be  a 
good  archon ,  &c. 

§  It  is  not  certain  by  whom  the  Ostracism  was  introduced:  some  say,  by 
Pisistratus,  or  rather  by  his  sons;  others,  by  Clisthenes;  and  others,  make  it 
as  ancient  as  the  time  of  Theseus.  By  this,  men,  who  became  powerful  to 
such  a  degree,  as  to  threaten  the  state  with  danger,  were  banished  for  ten 
years;  and  they  were  to  quit  the  Athenian  territories  in  ten  days.  The  me¬ 
thod  of  it  was  this:  every  citizen  took  a  piece  of  a  broken  pot  or  shell,  on 
which  he  wrote  the  name  of  the  person  he  would  have  banished.  This 
done,  the  magistrates  counted  the  shells;  and,  if  they  amounted  to  6000, 
sorted  them;  and  the  man  whose  name  was  found  on  the  greatest  numbef 
oi  shells,  was  of  course  exiled  for  ten  years. 


232 


THEMISTOCLES. 


upon  Epicydes,  prevailed  upon  him  by  pecuniary  considera¬ 
tions  to  drop  his  pretensions. 

His  behaviour  is  also  commended  with  respect  to  the  inter¬ 
preter  who  came  with  the  king  of  Persia’s  ambassadors  that 
were  sent  to  demand  earth  and  water.  * * * §  By  a  decree  of  the 
people,  he  put  him  to  death,  for  presuming  to  make  use  of  the 
Greek  language  to  express  the  demands  of  the  barbarians. 
To  this  we  may  add  his  proceedings  in  the  affair  of  Arthmius 
the  Zelite;t  who,  at  his  motion,  was  declared  infamous,  with 
bis  children  and  all  his  posterity,  for  bringing  Persian  gold 
into  Greece.  But  that  which  redounded  most  of  all  to  his  ho¬ 
nour  was  his  putting  an  end  to  the  Grecian  wars,  reconciling 
the  several  states  to  each  other,  and  persuading  them  to  lay 
aside  their  animosities  during  the  war  with  Persia.  In  this 
he  is  said  to  have  been  much  assisted  by  Chileus  the  Arcadian. 
As  soon  as  he  had  taken  the  command  upon  him,  he  endea¬ 
voured  to  persuade  the  people  to  quit  the  city,  to  embark  on 
board  their  ships,  and  to  meet  the  barbarians  at  as  great  a  dis¬ 
tance  from  Greece  as  possible.  But  many  opposing  it,  he 
marched  at  the  head  of  a  great  army,  together  with  the  Lace¬ 
daemonians,  to  Tempe,  intending  to  cover  Thessaly,  which 
had  not  as  yet  declared  for  the  Persians.  When  he  returned 
without  effecting  any  thing,  the  Thessalians  having  embraced 
the  king’s  party,  and  all  the  country,  as  far  as  Boeotia,  follow¬ 
ing  their  example,  the  Athenians  were  more  willing  to  heark¬ 
en  to  his  proposal  to  fight  the  enemy  at  sea,  and  sent  him  with 
a  fleet  to  guard  the  straits  of  Artemisium.  J 

When  the  fleets  of  the  several  states  were  joined,  and  the 
majority  were  of  opinion,  that  Eurybiades  should  have  the 
chief  command,  and  with  his  Lacedaemonians  begin  the  en¬ 
gagement,  the  Athenians,  who  had  a  greater  number  of  ships 
than  all  the  rest  united, §  thought  it  an  indignity  to  part  with 

*  This  was  a  demand  of  submission.  But  Herodotus  assures  us,  that 
Xerxes  did  not  send  such  an  embassy  to  the  Athenians:  the  ambassadors  of 
his  father  Darius  were  treated  with  great  indignity  when  they  made  that  de¬ 
mand:  for  the  Athenians  threw  them  into  a  ditch,  and  told  them.  There  was 
earth  and  water  enough . 

f  Arthmius  was  of  Zele,  a  town  in  Asia  Minor,  but  settled  at  Athens.  He 
was  not  only  declared  infamous  for  bringing  in  Persian  gold,  and  endeavour¬ 
ing  to  corrupt  with  it  some  of  the  principal  Athenians,  but  banished  by 
sound  of  trumpet.  Vide  JEschin.  Orat.  cont.  Ctesiphon. 

t  At  the  same  time  that  the  Greeks  thought  of  defending  the  pass  of 
Thermopylae  by  land,  they  sent  a  fleet  to  hinder  the  passage  of  the  Persian 
navy  through  the  straits  of  Euboea,  which  fleet  rendezvoused  at  Artemisium. 

§  Herodotus  tells  us,  in  the  beginning  of  his  eighth  book,  that  the  Athe 
nians  furnished  127  vessels,  and  that  the  whole  complement  of  the  rest  of 
the  Greeks  amounted  to  no  more  than  151;  of  which  twenty  belonged  like¬ 
wise  to  the  Athenians,  who  had  lent  them  to  the  Chalcidians. 


THEMISTOCLES. 


233 


the  place  ol  honour.  But  Themistocles,  perceiving  the  dan¬ 
ger  of  any  disagreement  at  that  time,  gave  up  the  command  to 
Eurybiades,  and  satisfied  the  Athenians,  by  representing  to 
them,  that,  if  they  behaved  like  men  in  that  war,  the  Grecians 
would  voluntarily  yield  them  the  superiority  for  the  future. 
To  him,  therefore,  Greece  seems  to  owe  her  preservation,  and 
the  Athenians,  in  particular,  the  distinguished  glory  of  sur¬ 
passing  their  enemies  in  valour,  and  their  allies  in  moderat’on. 

The  Persian  fleet  coming  up  to  Aphetse,  Eurybiades  was 
astonished  at  such  an  appearance  of  ships,  particularly  when  he 
was  informed  that  there  were  two  hundred  more  sailing  round 
S.ciathus.  He,  therefore,  was  desirous,  without  loss  of  time, 
to  draw  nearer  to  Greece,  and  to  keep  close  to  the  Pelopon¬ 
nesian  coast,  where  he  might  have  an  army  occasionally  to 
assist  the  fleet;  for  he  considered  the  naval  force  of  the  Per¬ 
sians  as  invincible.  Upon  this  the  Euboeans,  apprehensive 
that  the  Greeks  would  forsake  them,  sent  Pelagon,  to  negoti¬ 
ate  privately  with  Themistocles,  and  to  offer  him  a  large  sum 
of  money.  He  took  the  money,  and  gave  it  (as  Herodotus 
writes)  to  Eurybiades.'*  Finding  himself  most  opposed  in  his 
designs  by  Architeles,  captain  of  the  sacred  galley ,t  who  had 
not  money  to  pay  his  men,  and,  therefore,  intended  immedi¬ 
ately  to  withdraw,  he  so  incensed  his  countrymen  against  him, 
that  they  went  in  a  tumultuous  manner  on  board  his  ship,  and 
took  from  him  what  he  had  provided  for  his  supper.  Archi¬ 
teles,  being  much  provoked  at  this  insult,  Themistocles  sent 
him,  in  a  chest,  a  quantity  of  provisions,  and  at  the  bottom  of 
it  a  talent  of  silver,  and  desired  him  to  refresh  himself  that 
evening,  and  to  satisfy  his  crew  in  the  morning,  otherwise  he 
would  accuse  him  to  the  Athenians,  of  having  received  a  bribe 
from  the  enemy.  This  particular  is  mentioned  by  Phanias 
the  Lesbian 

Through  the  several  engagements^  with  the  Persian  fleet  in 


*  According*  to  Herodotus,  the  affair  was  thus: — The  Euboeans,  not  being 
able  to  prevail  with  Eurybiades  to  remain  on  their  coast  till  they  could  car¬ 
ry  off  their  wives  and  children,  addressed  themselves  to  Themistocles.,  and 
made  him  a  present  of  thirty  talents.  He  took  the  money,  and  with  five  ta¬ 
lents  bribed  Eurybiades.  Then  Adiamanthus  the  Corinthian,  being  the  only 
commander  who  insisted  on  weighing  anchor,  Themistocles  went  on  board 
him,  and  told  him  in  few  words, — “  Adiamanthus,  you  shall  not  abandon  us, 
V)r  I  will  give  you  a  greater  present  for  doing  your  duty,  than  the  king  of 
the  Modes  would  send  you  for  deserting  the  allies;”  which  he  performed, 
by  sending  him  three  talents  on  board.  Thus  he  did  what  the  Euboeans  re¬ 
quested,  and  saved  twenty-two  talents  for  himself. 

f  Hie  sacred  galley  was  that  which  the  Athenians  sent  every  year  to  De¬ 
los,  with  sacrifices  for  Apollo;  and  they  pretend  it  was  the  same  in  which 
Theseus  earned  the  tribute  to  Crete. 

t  They  came  to  three  several  engagements  within  three  days,  in  the  last 

Vol.  i - 2  I 


234 


THEMISTOCLES. 


the  straits  of  Euboea  were  not  decisive,  yet  they  were  of  great 
advantage  to  the  Greeks,  who  learned,  by  experience,  that  nei¬ 
ther  the  number  of  ships,  nor  the  beauty  and  splendour  of  theii 
ornaments,  nor  the  vaunting  shouts  and  songs  of  the  barbari¬ 
ans,  have  any  thing  dreadful  in  them  to  men  that  know  how 
to  fight  hand  to  hand,  and  are  determined  to  behave  gallantly. 
These  things  they  were  taught  to  despise,  when  they  came  to 
close  action,  and  grappled  with  the  foe.  In  this  case  Pindar’s 
sentiments  appear  just,  when  he  says  of  the  fight  at  Artemi¬ 
sium,— 

’Twas  then  that  Athens  the  foundations  laid 
Of  Liberty’s  fair  structure. 

Indeed,  intrepid  courage  is  the  commencement  of  victory 
Artemisium  is  a  maritime  place  of  Euboea,  to  the  north  of 
Hestiaea.  Over  against  it  lies  Olizon,  in  the  territory  that 
formerly  was  subject  to  Philoctet.es,  where  there  is  a  small 
temple  of  Diana  of  the  East,  in  the  midst  of  a  grove.  The 
temple  is  encircled  with  pillars  of  white  stone,  which,  when 
rubbed  with  the  hand,  has  both  the  colour  and  smell  of  saffron. 
On  one  of  the  pillars  are  inscribed  the  following  verses: — 

When  on  these  seas  the  sons  of  Athens  conquer’d 
The  various  powers  of  Asia,  grateful  here 
They  rear’d  this  temple  to  Diana. 

There  is  a  place  still  to  be  seen  upon  this  shore,  where  there 
is  a  large  heap  of  sand,  which,  if  dug  into,  shows  towards  the 
bottom  a  black  dust  like  ashes,  as  if  some  fire  had  been  there; 
and  this  is  supposed  to  have  been  that  in  which  the  wrecks  of 
the  ships,  and  the  bodies  of  the  dead,  were  burnt. 

The  news  of  what  had  happened  at  Thermopylae  being 
brought  to  Artemisium,*  when  the  confederates  were  informed 
that  Leonidas  was  slain  there,  and  Xerxes  master  of  the  pas¬ 
sages  by  land,  they  sailed  back  to  Greece;  and  the  Athenians, 
elated  with  their  late  distinguished  valour,  brought  up  the 
rear.  As  Themistocles  sailed  along  the  coasts,  wherever  he 
3aw  any  harbours  or  places  proper  for  the  enemy’s  ships  to 

of  which  Clineas,  the  father  of  Alcibiades,  performed  wonders.  He  had,  at 
his  own  expense,  fitted  out  a  ship  which  carried  two  hundred  men. 

*  The  last  engagement  at  Thermopylae,  wherein  Xerxes  forced  the  passes 
of  the  mountains,  by  the  defeat  of  the  Lacedemonians,  Thespians,  and  The¬ 
bans,  who  had  been  left  to  guard  them,  happened  on  the  same  day  with  the 
battle  at  Artemisium;  and  the  news  of  it  was  brought  to  Themistocles  by  an 
Athenian  called  Abronichus.  Though  the  action  at  Thermopylae  had  not  an 
immediate  relation  to  Themistocles,  yet  it  would  have  tended  more  to  the 
glory  of  that  general,  if  Plutarch  had  taken  greater  notice  of  it;  since  the 
advantage  gained  there  by  Xerxes,  opened  Greece  to  him,  and  rendered 
him  much  more  formidable.  Thermopylae  is  well  known  to  be  a  narrow  pas* 
in  the  mountains  near  the  Euripus. 


THEMISTOCLES. 


23a 

put  in  at,  he  took  such  stones  as  he  happened  to  find,  or  caused 
to  be  brought  thither  for  that  purpose,  and  set  them  up  in  the 
ports  and  watering  places,  with  the  following  inscription  en¬ 
graved  in  large  characters,  and  addressed  to  the  Ionians:— 
“  Let  the  Ionians,  if  it  be  possible,  come  over  to  the  Greeks, 
from  whom  they  are  descended,  and  who  now  risk  their  lives 
for  their  liberty.  If  this  be  impracticable,  let  them,  at  least, 
perplex  the  barbarians,  and  put  them  in  disorder  in  time  oi 
action.  By  this  he  hoped  either  to  bring  the  Ionians  over  to 
his  side,  or  to  sow  discord  among  them,  by  causing  them  to 
be  suspected  by  the  Persians. 

Though  Xerxes  had  passed  through  Doris,  down  to  Phocis, 
and  was  burning  and  destroying  the  Phocian  cities,  yet  the 
Greeks  sent  them  no  succours.  And,  notwithstanding  all  the 
entreaties  the  Athenians  could  use,  to  prevail  with  the  confe¬ 
derates  to  repair  with  them  into  Bceotia,  and  cover  the  fron¬ 
tiers  of  Attica,  as  they  had  sent  a  fleet  to  Artemisium  to  serve 
the  common  cause,  no  one  gave  ear  to  their  request.  All  eyes 
were  turned  upon  Peloponnesus,  and  all  were  determined  to 
collect  their  forces  within  the  isthmus ,  and  to  build  a  wall 
across  it  from  sea  to  sea.  The  Athenians  were  greatly  incens¬ 
ed  to  see  themselves  thus  betrayed,  and,  at  the  same  time,  de¬ 
jected  and  discouraged  at  so  general  a  defection.  They  alone 
could  not  think  of  giving  battle  to  so  prodigious  an  army.  To 
quit  the  city,  and  embark  on  board  their  ships,  was  the  only 
expedient  at  present:  and  this  the  generality  were  very  unwil¬ 
ling  to  hearken  to,  as  they  could  neither  have  any  great  ambi¬ 
tion  for  victory,  nor  idea  of  safety,  when  they  had  left  the 
temples  of  their  gods,  and  the  monuments  of  their  ancestors. 

Themistocles,  perceiving  that  he  could  not,  by  the  force  of 
human  reason,  prevail  with  the  multitude,*  set  his  machinery 
to  work  as  a  poet  would  do  in  a  tragedy,  and  had  recourse  to 
prodigies  and  oracles.  The  prodigy  he  availed  himself  of, 
was  the  disappearing  of  the  dragon  of  Minerva,  which,  at  that 
time,  quitted  the  holy  place;  and  the  priests,  finding  the  daily 
offerings  set  before  it  untouched,  gave  it  out  among  the  peo¬ 
ple,  at  the  suggestion  of  Themistocles,  that  the  goddess  had 
forsaken  the  city,  and  that  she  offered  to  conduct  them  to  sea. 
Moreover,  by  way  of  explaining  to  the  people  an  oracle  then 
received, t  he  told  them,  that  by  wooden  walls ,  there  could  not 


*  He  prevailed  so  effectually  at  h\st,  thai  the  Athenians  stoned  Cyrisilus,  an 
orator,  who  vehemently  opposed  him;  and  urged  all  the  common  topics  of 
love  to  the  place  of  one’s  birth,  and  the  affection  to  wives  and  helpless  in¬ 
fants.  The  women,  too,  to  show  how  far  they  were  from  desiring  that  the 
cause  of  Greece  should  suffer  for  them,  stoned  his  wife. 

j-  This  was  the  second  oracle  which  the  Athenian  deputies  received  from 
Anstonice,  priestess  of  Apollo.  Many  were  of  opinion,  that,  by  the  walls  of 


236 


THEMISTOCLES. 


possibly  be  any  thing  meant  but  ships;  and  that  Apollo,  now 
calling  Salamis  divine ,  not  wretched  and  unfortunate ,  as  former¬ 
ly,  signified  by  such  an  epithet,  that  it  would  be  productive 
of  some  g~eat  advantage  to  Greece.  His  councils  prevailed, 
and  he  prc posed  a  decree,  that  the  city  should  be  left  to  the 
protection  of  Minerva,*  the  tutelary  goddess  of  the  Athenians; 
that  the  young  men  should  go  on  board  the  ships;  and  that 
every  one  should  provide,  as  well  as  he  possibly  could,  for  the 
safety  of  the  children,  the  women,  and  the  slaves. 

When  this  decree  was  made,  most  of  the  Athenians  remov¬ 
ed  their  parents  and  wives  to  Troezene,t  where  they  were  re 
ceived  with  a  generous  hospitality.  The  Troezenians  came 
to  a  resolution,  to  maintain  them  at  the  public  expense;  foi 
which  purpose  they  allowed  each  of  them  two  oholi  a  day;  they 
permitted  the  children  to  gather  fruit  wherever  they  pleased, 
and  provided  for  their  education,  by  paying  their  tutors.  This 
order  was  procured  by  Nicagoras. 

As  the  treasury  of  Athens  was  then  but  low,  Aristotle  in¬ 
forms  us  that  the  court  of  Areopagus  distributed  to  every  man, 
who  took  part  in  the  expedition,  eight  drachmas;  which  was 
the  principal  means  of  manning  the  fleet.  But  Clidemus 
ascribes  this  also  to  a  stratagem  of  Themistocles;  for  he  tells  us. 
that  when  the  Athenians  went  down  to  the  harbour  of  Piraeus, 
the  JEgis  was  lost  from  the  statue  of  Minerva;  and  Themisto¬ 
cles,  as  he  ransacked  every  thing,  under  pretence  of  searching 
for  it,  found  large  sums  of  money  hid  among  the  baggage, 
which  he  applied  to  the  public  use;  and  out  of  it  all  necessaries 
were  provided  for  the  fleet. 

The  embarkation  of  the  people  of  Athens  was  a  very  affect 
ing  scene.  What  pity!  what  admiration  of  the  firmness  of 
those  men,  who,  sending  their  parents  and  families  to  a  dis¬ 
tant  place,  unmoved  with  their  cries,  their  tears,  or  embraces, 
had  the  fortitude  to  leave  the  city,  and  embark  for  Salamis! 
What  greatly  heightened  the  distress,  was  the  number  of  citi- 

wood  which  she  advised  them  to  have  recourse  to,  was  meant  the  citadel 
because  it  was  palisaded;  but  others  thought  it  could  intend  nothing*  but 
ships.  The  maintainers  of  the  former  opinion  urg*ed  ag*ainst  such  as  sup¬ 
ported  the  latter,  that  the  last  line  but  one  of  he  oracle,  Cl  eutohut  Jt 

cv  nvtv*  )uv*/xav,  was  directly  ag*ainst  him,  and  that,  without  question,  it  por¬ 
tended.  the  destruction  of  the  Athenian  fleet  near  Salamis.  Themistocles 
alleg*ea  in  answer,  that  if  the  oracle  had  intended  to  foretel  the  destruction 
of  the  Athenians,  it  would  not  have  called  it  the  divine  Salamis,  but  the  un¬ 
happy;  and  that,  whereas,  the  unfortunate  in  the  oracle  were  styled  the  soni 
of  women,  it  could  mean  no  other  than  the  Persians,  who  were  scandalously 
effeminate. — Herodot.  1.  vii.  c.  143,  144. 

*  But  how  was  this,  when  he  had  before  told  the  people,  that  Minerva  had 
forsaken  the  city? 

f  Theseus,  the  great  he  *o  in  Athenian  story,  was  originally  of  Tra-ze  i 


THEMISTOCLES. 


237 


?:ens  whom  they  were  forced  to  leave  behind,  because  of  their 
extreme  old  age.*  And  some  emotions  of  tenderness  were 
due  even  to  the  tame  domestic  animals,  which,  running  to  the 
shore,  with  lamentable  howlings,  expressed  their  affection  and 
regret  for  the  persons  that  had  fed  them.  One  of  these,  a  dog 
that  belonged  to  Xanthippus,  the  father  of  Pericles,  unwilling 
to  be  left  behind,  is  said  to  have  leaped  into  the  sea,  and  to 
have  swam  by  the  side  of  the  ship,  till  it  reached  Salamis, 
/vhere,  quite  spent  with  toil,  it  died  immediately.  And  they 
show  us  to  this  day  a  place  called  Cynos  Sema ,  where  they  tel 
us  that  dog  was  buried. 

To  these  great  actions  of  Themistocles  may  be  added  the. 
following.  He  perceived  that  Aristides  was  much  regretted 
by  the  people,  who  were  apprehensive  that,  out  of  revenge,  he 
might  join  the  Persians,  and  do  great  prejudice  to  the  cause 
of  Greece;  he,  therefore,  caused  a  decree  to  be  made,  that  all 
who  had  been  banished  only  for  a  time,  should  have  leave  to 
return,  and  by  their  counsel  and  valour  assist  their  fellow-citi 
zens  in  the  preservation  of  their  country. 

Eurybiades,  by  reason  of  the  dignity  of  Sparta,  had  the  com  * 
mand  of  the  fleet;  but  as  he  was  apprehensive  of  the  danger, 1 
he  proposed  to  set  sail  for  the  Isthmus ,  and  fix  his  station  near 
the  Peloponnesian  army.  Themistocles,  however,  opposed 
it;  and  the  account  we  have  of  the  conference  on  that  occasion, 
deserves  to  be  mentioned.  When  Eurybiades  said,J — “  Do 
not  you  know,  Themistocles,  that  in  the  public  games,  such  as 
rise  up  before  their  turn,  are  chastised  for  it?” — “  Yes,”  an¬ 
swered  Themistocles;  “  yet  such  as  are  left  behind  never  gain 
the  crown.”  Eurybiades,  upon  this,  lifting  up  his  staff,  as  if 
he  intended  to  strike  him,  Themistocles  said, — “  Strike,  if 
you  please,  but  hear  me.”  The  Lacedaemonian,  admiring  his 
command  of  temper,  bade  him  speak  what  he  had  to  say;  and 
Themistocles  was  leading  him  back  to  the  subject,  when  one 
of  the  officers  thus  interrupted  him, — “It  ill  becomes  you, 
who  have  no  city,  to  advise  us  to  quit  our  Habitations,*  and 
abandon  our  country. 99  Themistocles  retorted  upon  him  thus: 

#  In  this  description,  we  find  strong’  traces  of  Plutarch’s  humanity  and 
good  nature. 

f  It  does  not  appear  that  Eurybiades  wanted  courage.  After  Xerxes  had 
gained  the  pass  of  Thermopylae,  it  was  the  general  opinion  of  the  chief  of¬ 
ficers  of  the  confederate  fleet  assembled  ir.  council  (except  those  of  Athens), 
that  their  only  resource  was  to  build  a  strong  wall  across  the  isthmus,  and  to 
defend  Peloponnesus  against  the  Persians.  Besides,  the  Lacedaemonians, 
who  were  impartial  judges  of  men  and  things,  gave  the  palm  of  valour  to 
Eurybiades,  and  that  of  prudence  to  Themistocles. 

i  Herodotus  says,  this  conversation  passed  between  Adiamanthus,  general 
of  the  Corinthians,  and  Themistocles;  but  Plutarch  relates  it  with  more  pro 
bability  of  Eurybiades,  who  was  commander  in  chief, 

22 


238 


THEMISTOCLES. 


“Wretch  that  thou  art,  we  have,  indeed,  left  our  walls  and 
houses,  not  choosing,  for  the  sake  of  those  inanimate  things, 
to  become  slaves;  yet  we  have  still  the  most  respectable  city  of 
Greece  in  these  two  hundred  ships  which  are  here  ready  to 
defend  you,  if  you  will  give  them  leave.  But  if  you  forsake 
and  betray  us  a  second  time,  Greece  shall  soon  .find  the  Athe¬ 
nians  possessed  of  as  free  a  city,'* * * §  and  as  valuable  a  country, 
as  that  which  they  have  quitted.”  These  words  struck  Eury- 
Hades  with  the  apprehension  that  the  Athenians  might  fall  oft’ 
from  him.  We  are  told  also,  that  as  a  certain  Eretrian  was 
attempting  to  speak,  Themistocles  said, — “What!  have  you 
too  something  to  say  about  war,  who  are  like  the  fish  that  has 
a  sword,  but  no  heart?” 

While  Themistocles  was  thus  maintaining  his  argument 
upon  deck,  some  tell  us  an  owl  was  seen  flying  to  the  right 
of  the  fleet, t  which  came  and  perched  upon  the  shrouds 
This  omen  determined  the  confederates  to  accede  to  his  opin 
ion,  and  to  prepare  for  a  sea-fight.  But  no  sooner  did  the  ene¬ 
my’s  fleet  appear  advancing  towards  the  harbour  of  Phalerus 
in  Attica,  and  covering  all  the  neighbouring  coasts,  while 
Xerxes  himself  was  seen  marching  his  land  forces  to  the  shore, 
than  the  Greeks,  struck  with  the  sight  of  such  prodigious 
armaments,  began  to  forget  the  counsel  of  Themistocles;  and 
the  Peloponnesians  once  more  looked  towards  the  Isthmus . 
Nay,  they  resolved  to  set  sail  that  very  night,  and  such  orders 
were  given  to  all  the  pilots.  Themistocles,  greatly  concerned 
that  the  Greeks  were  going  to  give  up  the  advantage  of  their 
station  in  the  straits,  J  and  to  retire  to  their  respective  coun¬ 
tries,  contrived  that  stratagem  which  was  put  in  execution  by 
Sicinus.  This  Sicinus  was  of  Persian  extraction, §  and  a  cap¬ 
tive,  but  much  attached  to  Themistocles,  and  the  tutor  of  his 
children.  On  this  occasion  Themistocles  sent  him  privately  to 

*  The  address  of  Themistocles  is  very  much  to  be  admired.  If  Eurybiades 
was  really  induced  by  his  fears  to  return  to  the  isthmus,  the  Athenian  took 
a  right  method  to  remove  those  fears  by  suggesting  greater;  for  what  other 
free  country  could  he  intimate  that  the  people  of  Athens  would  acquire,  but 
that,  when  driven  from  their  own  city,  in  their  distress  and  despair,  they  might 
seize  the  state  of  Sparta? 

f  The  owl  was  sacred  to  Minerva,  the  protectress  of  the  Athenians. 

t  If  the  confederates  had  quitted  the  straits  of  Salamis,  where  they  coulc 
equal  the  Persians  in  the  line  of  battle,  such  of  the  Athenians  as  were  in  that 
island  must  have  become  an  easv  prey  to  the  enemy;  and  the  Persians 
would  have  found  an  open  sea  on  the  Peloponnesian  coast,  where  they  could 
act  with  all  their  force  against  the  ships  of  the  allies. 

§  Probably  it  was  from  an  erroneous  reading  of  a  passage  in  Herodotus, 
viz.  mfjLTrii  tig 'To  QTp'j.TC'XiSoVy  tcdv  MyJrn  clvS'qu,  rrkotto,  instead  of  To  Mxfwr,  that 
Plutarch  calls  Sicinus  a  Persian.  JEschylus,  however,  who  was  in  this  action, 
speaking  of  Sicinus,  savs,  Jl  certain  Greek  from  the  army  of  the  Athcwaxui 
told  Xeives,  &c. 


THEMISTOCLES. 


239 


*he  king  of  Persia,  with  orders  to  tell  him,  that  the  command¬ 
er  of  the  Athenians,  having  espoused  his  interest,  was  the  firs4 
to  inform  him  of  the  intended  flight  of  the  Greeks;  and  that  he 
exhorted  him  not  to  suffer  them  to  escape,  but  while  they  were 
in  this  confusion,  and  at  a  distance  from  their  land  forces,  to 
attack  and  destroy  their  whole  navy. 

Xerxes  took  this  information  kindly,  supposing  it  to  proceed 
from  friendship,  and  immediately  gave  orders  to  his  officers, 
with  tyvo  hundred  ships,  to  surround  all  the  passages,  and  to 
enclose  the  islands,  that  none  of  the  Greeks  might  escape,  and 
then  to  follow  with  the  rest  of  the  ships  at  their  leisure.  Aris¬ 
tides,  the  son  of  Lysimachus,  was  the  first  that  perceived  this 
motion  of  the  enemy;  and  though  he  was  not  in  friendship 
with  Themistocles,  but  had  been  banished  by  his  means  (as 
has  been  related),  he  went  to  him,  and  told  him  they  were  sur 
rounded  by  the  enemy/*  Themistocles,  knowing  his  probity, 
and  charmed  wrh  his  coming  to  give  this  intelligence,  ac¬ 
quainted  him  with  the  affair  of  Sicinus,  and  entreated  him  to 
lend  his  assistance  to  keep  the  Greeks  in  their  station,  and,  as 
they  had  a  confidence  in  his  honour,  to  persuade  them  to  come 
to  an  engagement  in  the  straits.  Aristides  approved  the  pro¬ 
ceedings  of  Themistocles,  and  going  to  the  other  admirals  and 
captains,  encouraged  them  to  engage.  While  they  hardly 
gave  credit  to  his  report,  a  Tenian  galley,  commanded  by 
Paraetius,  came  over  from  the  enemy  to  bring  the  same  ac¬ 
count;  so  that  indignation,  added  to  necessity,  excited  the 
Greeks  to  their  combat,  t 

As  soon  as  it  was  day,  Xerxes  sat  down  on  an  eminence,  to 
view  the  fleet  and  its  order  of  battle.  He  placed  himself,  as 
Phanodemus  writes,  above  the  temple  of  Hercules,  where  the 
isle  of  Salamis  is  separated  from  Attica  by  a  narrow  frith;  but, 
according  to  Acestodorus,  on  the  confines  of  Megara,  upon  a 
spot  called  Kerata ,  “the  hoi  ns.”  He  was  seated  on  a  throne 

*  Aristides  was  not  then  in  the  confederate  fleet,  but  in  the  isle  of  JEgina, 
from  whence  he  sailed  by  night,  with  great  hazard,  through  the  Persian 
fleet,  to  carry  this  intelligence. 

f  The  different  conduct  of  the  Spartans  and  the  Athenians  on  this  occa¬ 
sion  seems  to  show  how  much  superior  the  accommodating  laws  of  Solon 
were  to  the  austere  discipline  of  Lycurgus.  Indeed,  while  the  institutions 
of  the  latter  remained  in  force,  the  Lacedaemonians  were  the  greatest  of  all 
people.  But  that  was  impossible.  The  severity  of  Lycurgus’s  legislation 
naturally  tended  to  destroy  it.  Nor  was  this  all.  From  the  extremes  of 
abstemio  is  hardships,  the  next  step  was  not  to  a  moderate  enjoyment  of 
life,  but  to  all  the  licentiousness  of  the  most  effeminate  luxury.  The  laws 
of  Lycurgus  made  men  of  the  Spartan  women*  when  they  were  broken, 
they  made  womer  *f  the  men. 


240 


THEMISTOCLES 


of  gold,*  and  had  many  secretaries  about  him,  whose  business 
it  was  to  write  down  the  particulars  of  the  action. 

In  the  mean  time,  as  Themistocles  was  sacrificing  on  the 
deck  of  the  admiral-galley,  three  captives  were  brought  to 
him  of  uncommon  beauty,  elegantly  attired,  and  set  off  with 
golden  ornaments.  They  wei\3  said  to  be  tne  sons  of  Au- 
tarctus  and  Sandace,  sister  to  Xerxes.  Euphrantides,  the 
soothsayer,  casting  his  eye  upon  them,  and  at  the  same  time 
observing  that  a  bright  flame  blazed  out  from  the  victims,! 
while  a  sneezing  was  heard  from  the  right,  took  Themistocles 
by  the  hand  and  ordered  that  the  three  youths  should  be  con¬ 
secrated  and  sacrificed  to  Bacchus  Omestes-,%  for  by  this  means 
the  Greeks  might  be  assured  not  only  of  safety,  but  victory. 

Themistocles  was  astonished  at  the  strangeness  and  cruelty 
of  the  order;  but  the  multitude,  who,  in  great  and  pressing 
difficulties,  trust  rather  to  absurd  than  rational  methods,  in¬ 
voked  the  god  with  one  voice,  and  leading  the  captives  to  the 
altar,  insisted  upon  their  being  offered  up,  as  the  soothsayer 
had  directed.  This  particular  we  have  from  Phanias  the  Les¬ 
bian,  a  man  not  unversed  in  letters  and  philosophy. 

As  to  the  number  of  the  Persian  ships,  the  poet  iEschylus 
speaks  of  it,  in  his  tragedy  entitled  Persae ,  as  a  matter  he  was 
well  assured  of: — 

A  thousand,  ships  (for  well  I  know  the  number) 

The  Persian  flag'  obey’d;  two  hundred  more 
And  seven,  o’erspread  the  seas. 

The  Athenians  had  only  one  hundred  and  eighty  galleys, 
each  carried  eighteen  men  that  fought  upon  deck,  four  of 
whom  were  archers,  and  the  rest  heavy  armed. 

If  Themistocles  was  happy  in  choosing  a  place  for  action, 
he  was  no  less  so  in  taking  advantage  of  a  proper  time  for  it, 
for  he  would  not  engage  tne  enemy  till  that  time  of  day  when 
a  brisk  wind  usually  arises  from  the  sea,  which  occasions  a 
high  surf  in  the  channel.  This  was  no  inconvenience  to  the 

*  This  throne,  or  seat,  whether  of  gold  or  silver,  or  both,  was  taken  and 
earned  to  Athens,  where  it  was  consecrated  in  the  temple  of  Minerva,  with 
the  golden  sabre  of  Mardonius,  which  was  taken  afterwards  in  the  battle 
of  Plataea.  Demosthenes  calls  it  S'Kp^ov  a.^yv^o7roJ'ati  a  chair  with  silver  feet. 

f  A  bright  flame  was  always  considered  as  a  fortunate  omen,  whether  it 
wete  a  real  one  issuing  from  an  altar,  or  a  seeming  one,  (what  we  call  shell¬ 
fire,)  from  the  head  of  a  living  person.  Virgil  mentions  one  of  the  latter 
sort,  which  appeared  about  the  head  of  lulus  and  Forus,  a-  d  another  that 
was  seen  about  the  head  of  Servius  Tullius.  A  sneezing  on  the  right  hand, 
too,  was  deemed  a  lucky  omen  both  by  the  Greeks  and  Latins. 

$  In  the  same  manner,  Chios,  Tenedos,  and  Lesbos,  offered  human  sacrifi¬ 
ces  to  Bacchus,  surnamed  Omodius.  But  this  is  the  sole  instance  we  know 
among  the  Athenians. 


rHEMISTOCLES. 


241 


Grecian  vessels,  which  were  low  built  and  well  compared; 
but  a  very  great  one  to  the  Persian  ships,  which  had  high 
sterns  and  lofty  decks,  and  were  heavy  and  unwieldy;  for  it 
caused  them  to  veer  in  such  a  manner,  that  their  sides  were 
exposed  to  the  Greeks,  who  attacked  them  furiously.  During 
Ihe  whole  dispute,  great  attention  was  given  to  the  motions  of 
Themistocles,  as  it  was  believed  he  knew  best  howto  proceed 
Ariamenes,  the  Persian  admiral,  a  man  of  distinguished  ho¬ 
nour,  arid  by  far  the  bravest  of  the  king’s  brothers,  directed 
his  manoeuvres  chiefly  against  him.  His  ship  was  very  tall, 
and  from  thence  he  threw  darts,  and  shot  forth  arrows  as  from 
the  walls  of  a  castle.  But  Aminias  the  Decelean ,  and  Sosicles 
the  Pedian,  who  sailed  in  one  bottom,  bore  down  upon  him 
with  their  prow,  and  both  ships  meeting,  they  were  fastened 
together  by  means  of  their  brazen  beaks;  when  Ariamene3 
boarding  their  galley,  they  received  him  with  their  pikes,  and 
pushed  him  into  the  sea.  Artemisia*  knew  the  body  amongst 
others  that  were  floating  with  the  wreck,  and  carried  it  to 
Xerxes. 

While  the  fight  was  thus  raging,  we  are  told  a  great  lighu 
appeared  as  from  Eleusis;  and  loud  sounds  and  voices  were 
heard  through  all  the  plain  of  Thriasia  to  the  sea,  as  of  a  great 
number  of  people  carrying  the  mystic  symbols  of  Bacchus  in 
procession,  t  A  cloud,  too,  seemed  to  rise  from  among  the 
crowd  that  made  this  noise,  and  to  ascend  by  degrees,  till  it 
fell  upon  the  galleys.  Other  phantoms  also,  and  apparitions 
of  armed  men,  they  thought  they  saw,  stretching  out  thei ' 
hands  from  iEgina  before  the  Grecian  fleet.  These  they  con. 
jectured  to  be  the  JEacidx,%  to  whom,  before  the  battle,  they 
had  addressed  their  prayers  for  succour. 

The  first  man  that  took  a  ship  was  an  Athenian,  named  Ly- 

*  Artemisia,  queen  of  Halicarnassus,  distinguished  herself  above  all  the 
rest  of  the  Persian  forces,  her  ships  being  the  last  that  fled;  which  Xerxes 
observing,  cried  out,  that  the  men  behaved  like  women,  and  the  women 
with  the  courage  and  intrepidity  of  men.  The  Athenians  were  so  incensed 
against  her,  that  they  offered  a  reward  of  ten  thousand  drachmas  to  any  one 
that  should  take  her  alive.  This  princess  must  not  be  confounded  with  that 
Artemisia  who  was  the  wife  of  Mausolus,  king  of  Caria. 

*f  Herodotus  says,  these  voices  were  heard,  and  this  vision  seen,  some  days 
before  the  battle,  while  the  Persian  land  forces  were  ravaging  the  territories 
of  Attica.  Dicams,  an  Athenian  exile  (who  hoped  thereby  to  procure  a  miti¬ 
gation  of  his  country’s  fate,)  was  the  first  that  observed  the  thing,  and  car¬ 
ried  an  account  of  it  to  Xerxes. 

t  A  vessel  had  been  sent  to  iEgina  to  implore  the  assistance  of  JEacus  and 
bis  descendants.  iEacus  was  the  son  of  Jupite  ’,  and  had  been  king  of 
/Eg;na.  He  was  so  remarkable  for  his  justice,  that  his  prayers,  whilst  lie 
lived,  are  said  to  have  procured  great  advantages  to  the  Greeks;  and,  after 
his  death,  it  was  believed  that  he  was  appointed  one  of  the  three  judges  in 
the  infernal  regions. 

Vol.  I. - 2  K 


22* 


242 


THEMISTOCLES. 


comedes,  captain  of  a  galley,  who  cut  down  the  ensigns  from 
the  enemy’s  ship,  and  consecrated  them  to  the  laurelled  Apollo. 
As  the  Persians  could  come  up  in  the  straits  but  few  at  a  time, 
and  often  put  each  other  in  confusion,  the  Greeks  equalling 
them  in  the  line,  fought  them  till  the  evening,  when  they 
broke  them  entirely,  and  gained  that  signal  and  complete  vic¬ 
tory,  than  which  (as  Simonides  says)  no  other  naval  achieve¬ 
ment,  either  of  the  Greeks  or  barbarians,  ever  was  more  glo- 
rious.  This  success  was  owing  to  the  valour,  indeed,  of  all 
the  confederates,  but  chiefly  to  the  sagacity  and  conduct  of 
Themistocles.* 

After  the  battle,  Xerxes,  full  of  indignation  at  his  disap¬ 
pointment,  attempted  to  join  Salamis  to  the  continent,  by  a 
mole  so  well  secured,  that  his  land  forces  might  pass  over  it 
into  the  island,  and  that  he  might  shut  up  the  pass  entirely 
against  the  Greeks.  At  the  same  time,  Themistocles,  to 
sound  Aristides,  pretended  it  was  his  own  opinion  that  they 
should  sail  to  the  Hellespont,  and  break  down  the  bridge  of 
ships. — “  For  so,”  says  he,  “we  may  take  Asia,  without  stir¬ 
ring  out  of  Europe.”  Aristidest  did  not  in  the  least  relish 
his  proposal,  but  answered  him  to  this  purpose: — “  Till  now 
we  have  had  to  do  with  an  enemy  immersed  in  luxury;  but  if 
we  shut  him  up  in  Greece,  and  drive  him  to  necessity,  he, 
who  is  master  of  such  prodigious  forces,  will  no  longer  sit  un- 
ler  a  golden  canopy,  and  be  a  quiet  spectator  of  the  proceed¬ 
ings  of  the  war,  but,  awaked  by  danger,  attempting  every  thing, 
and  present  every  where,  he  will  correct  his  past  errors,  and 
follow  counsels  better  calculated  for  success.  Instead,  there¬ 
fore,  of  breaking  that  bridge,  we  should,  if  possible,  provide 
another,  that  he  may  retire  the  sooner  out  of  Europe.”  “  If 
that  is  the  case,”  said  Themistocles,  “  we  must  all  consider 
and  contrive  how  to  put  him  upon  the  most  speedy  retreat  out 
of  Greece.” 

This  being  resolved  upon,  he  sent  one  of  the  king’s  eunuchs, 
whom  he  found  among  the  prisoners,  Arnaces  by  name,  to  ac¬ 
quaint  him, — “That  the  Greeks,  since  their  victory  at  sea, 
were  determined  to  sail  to  the  Hellespont,  and  destroy  the 
bridge:  but  that  Themistocles,  in  care  for  the  king’s  safety? 
advised  him  to  hasten  towards  his  own  seas,  and  pass  over  in¬ 
to  Asia,  while  his  friend  endeavoured  to  find  out  pretences  of 
delay,  to  prevent  the  confederates  from  pursuing  him.” 


*  In  this  battle,  which  was  one  of  the  most  memorable  we  find  in  history, 
the  Grecians  lost  forty  ships,  ar„d  the  Persians  two  hundred,  besides  a  great 
many  more  that  were  taken. 

f  According*  to  Herodotus,  it  was  not  Aristides,  but  Eurybiades,  who  made 
this  repl)  to  Themist  >clc6. 


FHEMISTOCLES. 


243 


Xerxes,  terrified  at  the  news,  retired  with  the  greatest  pre¬ 
cipitation.*  How  prudent  the  management  of  TThemistocles 
and  Aristides  was,  Moidonius  afforded  a  proof,  when,  with  a 
fimall  part  of  the  king’s  forces,  he  put  the  Greeks  in  extreme 
danger  of  losing  all  in  the  battle  of  Platsea. 

Herodotus  tells  us,  that,  among  the  cities,  iEgina  bore  away 
the  palm;  but  among  the  commanders,  Themistoeles,  in  spite 
of  envy,  was  universally  allowed  to  have  distinguished  him¬ 
self  most;  for  when  they  came  to  the  isthmus,  and  every  offi¬ 
cer  took  a  billet  from  the  altar, t  to  inscribe  upon  it  the  names 
of  those  that  had  done  the  best  service,  every  one  put  himself 
ir  the  first  place,  and  Themistoeles  in  the  second.  The  La- 
jedaemonians,  having  conducted  him  to  Sparta,  adjudged  Eu- 
rybiades  the  prize  of  valour,  and  Themistoeles  that  of  wis¬ 
dom,  honouring  each  with  a  crown  of  olive.  They  likewise 
presented  the  latter  with  the  handsomest  chariot  in  the  city, 
and  ordered  three  hundred  of  their  youth  to  attend  him  to  the 
borders.  At  the  next  Olympic  games,  too,  we  are  told,  that 
as  soon  as  Themistoeles  appeared  in  the  ring,  the  champions 
were  overlooked  by  the  spectators,  who  kept  their  eyes  upon 
him  all  the  day,  and  pointed  him  out  to  strangers  with  the  ut¬ 
most  admiration  and  applause.  This  incense  was  extremely 
grateful  to  him;  and  he  acknowledged  to  his  friends  that  he 
then  reaped  the  fruit  of  his  labours  for  Greece. 

Indeed  he  was  naturally  very  ambitious,  if  we  may  form  a 
conclusion  from  his  memorable  acts  and  sayings. 

For,  when  elected  admiral  b y  the  Athenians,  he  would  not 
despatch  any  business,  whether  public  or  private,  singly,  but 
put  off  all  affairs  to  the  day  he  was  to  embark,  that  having  a 
great  deal  to  do,  he  might  appear  with  the  greater  dignity  and 
importance. 

One  day,  as  he  was  looking  upon  the  dead  bodies  cast  up 
by  the  sea,  and  saw  a  number  of  chains  of  gold  and  bracelets 
upon  them,  he  passed  by  them,  and  turning  to  his  friend  said, 
“  Take  these  things  for  yourself,  for  you  are  not  Themisto- 
cles.” 

*  Xerxes,  having*  left  Mardonius  in  Greece  with  an  army  of  three  hundred 
thousand  men,  marched  with  the  rest  towards  Thrace,  in  order  to  cross  the 
Hellespont.  As  no  provisions  had  been  prepared  beforehand,  his  army  un¬ 
derwent  great  hardships  during  the  whole  time  of  his  march,  which  lasted 
five-and-forty  days.  The  king,  finding  they  were  not  in  a  condition  to  pur¬ 
sue  their  route  so  expedHiously  as  he  desired,  advanced  with  a  small  retinue, 
but  when  he  arrived  at  the  Hellespont,  he  found  his  bridge  of  boats  broken 
down  by  the  violence  of  the  storms,  and  was  reduced  to  the  necessity  of 
crossing  over  in  a  fishing-boat.  From  the  Hellespont  he  continued  his  flight 
to  Sardis.  > 

\  The  altar  of  Neptune.  This  solemnity  was  designed  to  make  them  give 
their  judgment  impartially,  as  in  the  presence  of  the  gods. 


244 


THEMISTOCLES. 


To  Antiphates,  who  had  formerly  treated  him  with  disdain, 
but  in  his  glory  made  his  court  to  him,  he  said, — “  Young 
man,  we  are  both  come  to  our  senses  at  the  same  time,  though 
a  little  too  late.” 

He  used  to  say, — “The  Athenians  paid  him  no  honour  01 
sincere  respect;  but  when  a  storm  arose,  or  danger  appeared, 
they  sheltered  themselves  under  him,  as  under  a  plane-tree, 
which,  when  the  weather  was  fair  again,  they  would  rob  ot 
its  leaves  and  branches.” 

When  one  of  Seriphus  told  him, — “  He  was  not  so  much 
honoured  for  his  own  sake,  but  for  his  country’s;” — “True,” 
answered  . Themistocles,  “for  neither  should  I  have  been 
greatly  distinguished  if  I  had  been  of  Seriphus,  nor  you,  if 
you  had  been  an  Athenian.” 

Another  officer,  who  thought  he  had  done  the  state  some 
service,  setting  himself  up  against  Themistocles,  and  ventur¬ 
ing  to  compare  his  own  exploits  wTith  his,  he  answered  him 
with  this  fable; — “  There  once  happened  a  dispute  between 
the  feast-day  and  the  day  after  the  feast:  Says  the  day  after  the 
feast ,  I  am  full  of  bustle  and  trouble;  whereas,  with  you,  folks 
enjoy  at  their  ease  every  thing  ready  provided.  You  say 
right,  says  the  feast-day,  but  if  1  had  not  been  before  you,  you 
would  not  have  been  at  all.  So,  had  it  not  been  for  me,  then, 
where  would  you  have  been  now.”* 

His  son  being  master  of  his  mother,  and  by  her  means  of 
him,  he  said,  laughing, — “  This  child  is  greater  than  any  man 
in  Greece;  for  the  Athenians  command  the  Greeks,  I  com¬ 
mand  the  Athenians,  his  mother  commands  me,  and  he  com  • 
mands  his  mother.” 

As  he  loved  to  be  particular  in  every  thing,  when  he  hap- 

!,ened  to  sell  a  farm,  he  ordered  the  crier  to  add, — “that  it 
lad  a  good  neighbour.” 

Two  citizens  courting  his  daughter,  he  preferred  the  worthy 
man  to  the  rich  one,  and  assigned  this  reason, — “He  had 
rather  she  should  have  a  man  without  money,  than  money 
without  a  man.”  Such  was  the  pointed  manner  in  which  he 
often  expressed  himself,  t 

After  the  greatest  actions  we  have  related,  his  next  enter¬ 
prise  was  to  rebuild  and  fortify  the  city  of  Athens.  Theo- 
pompus  tells  us,  he  bribed  the  Lacedaemonian  Ephori ,  that  they 

*  There  is  the  genuine  Attic  salt  in  most  of* these  retorts  and  observations 
of  Themistocles.  His  wit  seems  to  have  been  equal  to  his  military  and  po¬ 
litical  capacity. 

j-  Cicero  has  preserved  another  of  his  sayings,  which  deserves  mentioning. 
When  Simonides  offered  to  teach  Themistocles  the  art  of  memory,  he  an¬ 
swered,  Ah!  rather  teach  me  the  art  of  fort' getting;  for  Icrtm  re  member  what  t 
would  noty  and  can  not  forget  what  I  would. 


THEMISTOCLES. 


245 


might  not  opjose  it;  but  most  historians  say  he  overreached 
them.  He  was  sent,  it  seems,  on  pretence  of  an  embassy,  tc 
Sparta.  The  Spartans  complained  that  the  Athenians  were 
fortifying  their  city,  and  the  governor  of  Angina,  who  was 
come  for  that  purpose,  supported  the  accusation.  But  The- 
mistocles  absolutely  denied  it,  and  challenged  them  to  send 
proper  persons  to  Athens  to  inspect  the  walls;  at  once  gaining 
time  for  finishing  them,  and  contriving  to  have  hostages  at 
Aliens  for  his  return.  The  event  answered  his  expectation, 
fx  the  Lacedaemonians,  when  assured  how  the  fact  stood, 
dissembled  their  resentment,  and  let  him  go  with  impunity. 

After  this,  he  built  and  fortified  the  Piraeus  (having  ob 
served  the  conveniency  cf  that  harbour);  by  which  means  he 
gave  the  city  every  maritime  accommodation.  In  this  re¬ 
spect  his  politics  were  very  different  from  those  of  the  ancient 
kings  of  Athens.  They,  we  are  told,  used  their  endeavours 
to  draw  the  attention  of  their  subjects  from  the  business  ol 
navigation,  that  they  might  turn  it  entirely  to  the  culture  of 
the  ground;  and  to  this  purpose  they  published  the  fable  of 
the  contention  between  Minerva  and  Neptune,  for  the  patron 
age  of  Attica,  when  the  former,  by  producing  an  olive-tree  be¬ 
fore  the  judges,  gained  her  cause.  Themistocles  did  not  bring 
the  Piraeus  into  the  city,  as  Aristophanes  the  comic  poet  woula 
have  it;  but  he  joined  the  city  by  a  line  of  communication  to 
the  Piraeus,  and  the  land  to  the  sea.  This  measure  strength¬ 
ened  the  people  against  the  nobility,  and  made  them  bolder 
smd  more  untractable,  as  power  came  with  wealth  into  the 
hands  of  masters  of  ships,  mariners,  and  pilots.  Hence  it  was, 
that  the  oratory  in  Pnyx ,  which  was  built  to  front  the  sea,  was 
afterwards  turned  by  the  thirty  tyrants  towards  the  land;*  for 
they  believed  a  maritime  power  inclinable  to  a  democracy, 
whereas  persons  employed  in  agriculture  would  be  less  uneasy 
under  an  oligarchy. 

Themistocles  had  something  still  greater  in  view  for 
strengthening  the  Athenians  by  sea.  After  the  retreat  of 
Xerxes,  when  the  Grecian  fleet  was  gone  into  the  harbour  ol 
Pagasse  to  winter,  he  acquainted  the  citizens  in  full  assembly, 
— “  That  he  had  hit  upon  a  design  which  might  greatly  con 
tribute  to  their  advantage,  but  it  was  not  fit  to  be  communi 
cated  to  their  whole  body.  The  Athenians  ordered  him  to 
communicate  it  to  Aristides  only,t  and  if  he  approved  of  it, 
to  put  it  in  execution.  Themistocles  then  informed  him, — 
“  That  he  had  thoughts  of  burning  the  confederate  fleet  at  Pa- 

*  The  thirty  tyrants  were  established  at  Athens  by  Lysander,  403  years  be¬ 
fore  the  Christian  era,  and  77  years  after  the  battle  of  Salamis. 

f  How  glorious  this  testimony  of  the  public  regard  to  Aristides,  from  a 
people  then  so  free,  and  withal  so  virtuous ! 


246 


THEMISTOCLES. 


gasae.  Upon  which,  Aristides  went  and  declared  to  the  peo¬ 
ple, — “That  the  enterprise  which  Themistocles  proposed,  was 
indeed  the  most  advantageous  in  the  world,  but  at  the  same 
time  the  most  unjust.”  The  Athenians  therefore  commanded 
aim  to  lay  aside  all  thoughts  of  it.* 

About  this  time  the  Lacedaemonians  made  a  motion  in  the 
assembly  of  the  Amphictyons ,  to  exclude  from  that  council  all 
those  states  that  had  not  joined  in  the  confederacy  against  the 
king  of  Persia.  But  Themistocles  was  apprehensive,  that  if 
the  Thessalians,  the  Argives,  and  Thebans,  were  expelled 
from  the  council,  the  Lacedaemonians  would  have  a  great  ma 
jority  of  voices,  and  consequently  procure  wdiat  decrees  they 
pleased.  He  spoke,  therefore,  in  defence  of  those  states,  and 
brought  the  deputies  olf  from  that  design,  by  representing  thal 
thirty-one  cities  only  had  their  share  of  the  burden  of  that  war, 
and  that  the  greatest  part  of  these  were  but  of  small  considera¬ 
tion;  that  consequently  it  would  be  both  unreasonable  and  dan¬ 
gerous  to  exclude  the  rest  of  Greece  from  the  league,  and 
leave  the  council  to  be  dictated  to  by  two  or  three  great  cities. 
By  this  he  became  very  obnoxious  to  the  Lacedaemonians,  who, 
for  this  reason,  set  up  Cimon  against  him  as  a  rival  in  all  af¬ 
fairs  of  state,  and  used  all  their  interest  for  his  advancement 
He  disobliged  the  allies  also,  by  sailing  round  the  islands, 
and  extorting  money  from  them;  as  we  may  conclude  from 
the  answer  which  Herodotus  tells  us  the  Andrians  gave  him 
to  a  demand  of  that  sort.  He  told  them,— “  He  brought  two 
gods  along  with  him,  Persuasion  and  Force.”  They  replied, — 
“  They  had  also  two  great  gods  on  their  side,  Poverty  and  Zte- 
spair ,  who  forbade  them  to  satisfy  him.”  Timocreon,  the 
Rhodian  poet,  writes  with  great  bitterness  against  Themisto¬ 
cles,  and  charges  him  with  betraying  him,  though  his  friend 
and  host,  for  money,  while,  for  the  like  paltry  consideration, 
he  procured  the  return  of  other  exiles.  So  in  these  versesr- 

Pausanias  you  may  praise,  and  you  Xantippus, 

And  you  Leotychidas:  But  sure  the  hero. 

Who  bears  th’  Athenian  palm,  is  Aristides. 

AVhat  is  the  false,  the  vain  Themistocles? 

The  very  light  is  grudg’d  him  by  Latona, 

Who  for  vile  pelf  betrayed  Timocreon, 

*  It  is  hardly  possible  for  the  military  and  political  genius  of  Themistocles 
to  save  him  from  contempt  and  detestation,  when  we  arrive  at  this  part  of 

his  conduct. - A  serious  proposal  to  burn  the  confederate  fleet! -  ■ 

That  fleet,  whose  united  efforts  had  saved  Greece  from  destruction! — which 
had  fought  under  his  auspices  with  such  irresistible  valour! — That  sacred 
fleet,  the  minutest  parts  of  which  should  have  been  religiously  preserved, 
or,  if  consumed,  consumed  only  on  the  altars,  and  in  the  service  of  the  gods' 
-How  diabolical  is  that  policy,  which,  in  its  way  to  power,  tramples  or. 
humanity,  justice  and  gratitude! 


THEMISTOCLES. 


247 


His  friend  and  host:  nor  gave  him  to  behold 
His  dear  Jalysus.  For  three  talents  more 
He  sail’d,  and  left  him  on  a  foreign  coast. 

What  fatal  end  awaits  the  man  that  kills, 

That  banishes,  that  sets  the  villain  up. 

To  fill  his  glitt’ring  stores?  While  ostentation. 

With  vain  airs,  fain  would  boast  the  generous  .land. 

And  at  the  isthmus  spreads  a  public  board 

For  crowds  that  eat,  and  curse  him  at  the  banquet. 

But  Timocreon  gave  a  still  looser  rein  to  his  abuse  of  Themis 
ocles,  after  the  condemnation  and  banishment  of  that  great 
man,  in  a  poem  which  begins  thus: — 

Muse,  crown’d  with  glory,  bear  this  faithful  strain, 

Far  as  the  Grecian  name  extends. - 

Timocreon  is  said  to  have  been  banished  by  Themistocles,  lor 
favouring  the  Persians.  When  therefore  Themistocles  was 
accused  of  the  same  traitorous  inclinations,  he  wrote  against 
him  as  follows : — 

Timocreon’s  honour  to  the  Mcdes  is  sold, 

But  yet  not  his  alone:  Another  fox 
Finds  the  same  fields  to  prey  in. 

As  the  Athenians,  through  envy,  readily  gave  ear  to  calum 
nies  against  him,  he  was  often  forced  to  recount  his  own  ser¬ 
vices,  which  rendered  him  still  more  insupportable;  and  when 
they  expressed  their  displeasure,  he  said, — “  Are  you  weary 
of  receiving  benefits  often  from  the  same  hand?” 

Another  offence  he  gave  the  people,  was,  his  building  a  tem¬ 
ple  to  Diana,  under  the  name  of  Jiristobule ,  or,  Diana  of  the  best 
counsel ;  intimating  that  he  had  given  the  best  counsel;  not  only 
to  Athens,  but  to  all  Greece.  He  built  this  temple  near  his 
own  house,  in  the  quarter  of  Melita,  where  now’  the  execution 
ers  cast  out  the  bodies  of  those  that  have  suffered  death,  and 
where  they  throw  the  halters  and  clothes  of  such  as  have  been 
strangled  or  otherwise  put  to  death.  There  wTas,  even  in  our 
t  ime,  a  statue  of  Themistocles  in  this  temple  of  Diana  Jiristobule, 
Horn  which  it  appeared  that  his  aspect  w~as  as  heroic  as  his  soul. 

At  last,  the  Athenians,  unable  any  longer  to  bear  that  high 
distinction  in  which  he  stood,  banished  him  by  the  ostracism ; 
and  this  was  nothing  more  than  they  had  done  to  others  whose 
power  w'as  become  a  burden  to  them,  and  who  had  risen  above 
the  equality  which  a  commonwealth  requires;  for  the  ostracism, 
or  ten  years  banishment ,  was  not  so  much  intended  to  punish 
this  or  that  great  man,  as  to  pacify  and  mitigate  the  fury  of 
envy,  who  delights  in  the  disgrace  of  superior  characters,  and 
loses  a  part  of  her  rancour  by  their  fall. 

In  the  time  of  his  exile,  while  he  took  up  his  abode  at  At 


248 


THEMISTOCl  ES. 


gos,*  the  affair  of  Pa.isanias  gave  great  advantage  to  the  ene¬ 
mies  of  Themistocles.  The  person  that  accused  him  of  trea¬ 
son  was  Leobotes,  the  son  of  Alcmseon  of  Agraule,  and  the 
Spartans  joined  in  the  impeachment.  Pausanias  at  first  con¬ 
cealed  his  plot  from  Themistocles,  though  he  was  his  friend; 
but  when  he  saw  him  an  exile,  and  full  of  indignation  agains: 
the  Athenians,  he  ventured  to  communicate  his  designs  to  him, 
showing  him  the  king  of  Persia’s  letters,  and  exciting  him  to 
vengeance  against  the  Greeks,  as  an  unjust  and  ungrateful 
people.  Themistccles  rejected  the  solicitations  of  Pausanias, 
and  refused  to  have  the  least  share  in  his  designs;  but  he  gave 
no  information  of  what  had  passed  between  them,  nor  let  the 
secret  transpire;  whether  he  thought  he  would  desist  of  him¬ 
self,  or  that  he  would  be  discovered  some  other  way,  as  he  had 
embarked  in  an  absurd  and  extravagant  enterprise,  without  any 
rational  hopes  of  success. 

However,  when  Pausanias  was  put  to  death  there,  were 
found  letters  and  other  writings  relative  to  the  business,  which 
caused  no  small  suspicion  against  Themistocles.  The  Lacede¬ 
monians  raised  a  clamour  against  him;  and  those  of  his  fellow- 
citizens  that  envied  him,  insisted  on  the  charge.  He  could 
not  defend  himself  in  person,  but  he  answered  by  letter  the 
principal  parts  of  the  accusation.  For,  to  obviate  the  calum¬ 
nies  of  his  enemies,  he  observed  to  the  Athenians, — “  That 
he  who  was  born  to  command,  and  incapable  of  servitude, 
could  never  sell  himself,  and  Greece  along  with  him,  to  ene¬ 
mies  and  barbarians.”  The  people,  however,  listened  to  his 
accusers,  and  then  sent  them  with  orders  to  bring  him  to  an¬ 
swer  the  charge  before  the  states  of  Greece.  Of  this  he  had 
timely  notice,  and  passed  over  to  the  isle  of  Corcyra,  the  inha¬ 
bitants  of  which  had  great  obligations  to  him;  for  a  difference 
between  them  and  the  people  of  Corinth  had  been  referred  to 
his  arbitration,  and  he  had  decided  it  by  awarding  the  Corin- 
thianst  to  pay  down  twenty  talents,  and  the  isle  of  Leucas  to 

4  The  great  Pausanias,  who  had  beaten  the  Persians  in  the  battle  of  Pla- 
taea,  and  who  on  many  occasions  had  behaved  with  great  generosity  as  well 
as  moderation,  at  last  degenerated,  and  fell  into  a  scandalous  treaty  with 
the  Persians,  in  hopes,  through  their  interest,  to  make  himself  sovereign  of 
Greece.  As  soon  as  he  had  conceived  these  strange  notions,  he  fell  into  the 
manners  of  the  Persians,  affected  all  their  luxury,  and  derided  the  plain  cus¬ 
toms  of  his  country,  of  which  he  had  formerly  been  so  fond.  The  Ephort 
waited  some  time  for  clear  proof  of  his  treacherous  designs,  and  when  they 
had  obtained  it,  determined  to  imprison  him.  But  he  fled  into  the  temple 
of  Minerva  Chalcioicos,  and  they  besieged  him  there.  They  walled  up  all 
the  gates,  and  his  own  mother  laid  the  first  stone.  When  they  had  almost 
starved  him  to  death,  they  laid  hands  on  him,  and  by  the  time  they  had  got 
Aim  out  of  the  temple,  he  expired. 

f  The  scholiast  upon  Thucydides  tells  us,  Themistocles  served  the  peo- 


THEM1ST0CLES. 


249 


bo  in  common  between  the  two  parties,  as  a  coiony  l'rom  both. 
From  thence  he  fled  to  Epirus;  and  finding  himself  still  pur¬ 
sued  by  the  Athenians  and  Lacedaemonians,  he  tried  a  very 
hazardous  and  uncertain  resource,  in  imploring  the  protection 
of  Admetus,  king  of  the  Molossians.  Admetus  had  made  a 
request  to  the  Athenians,  which  being  rejected  with  scorn  by 
Themistocles,  in  the  time  of  his  prosperity  and  influence  in 
the  state,  the  king  entertained  a  deep  resentment  against  him, 
and  made  no  secret  of  his  intention  to  revenge  himself,  if  ever 
the  Athenians  should  fall  into  his  power.  However,  while  he 
was  thus  flying  from  place  to  place,  he  was  more  afraid  of  the 
recent  envy  of  his  countrymen,  than  of  the  consequences  of 
an  old  quarrel  with  the  king;  and,  therefore,  he  went  and  put 
himself  in  his  hands,  appearing  before  him  as  a  suppliant,  in 
a  particular  and  extraordinary  manner.*  He  took  the  king's 
son,  who  was  yet  a  child,  in  his  arms,  and  kneeled  down  be¬ 
fore  the  household  gods.  This  manner  of  offering  a  petition, 
the  Molossians  look  upon  as  the  most  effectual,  and  only 
one  that  can  hardly  be  rejected.  Some  say  the  queen,  whose 
name  was  Phthia,  suggested  this  method  of  supplication  to 
Themistocles.  Others,  that  Admetus  himself  taught  him  to 
act  the  part,  that  he  might  have  a  sacred  obligation  to  allege 
against  giving  him  up  to  those  that  might  come  to  demand  him. 

At  that  time  Epicrates  the  Acarnanian  found  means  to  con¬ 
vey  the  wife  and  children  of  Themistocles  out  of  Athens,  and 
sent  them  to  him;  for  which  Cimon  afterwards  condemned 
him,  and  put  him  to  death.  This  account  is  given  by  Stesim- 
brotus;  yet,  I  know  not  how,  forgetting  what  he  had  asserted, 
or  making  Themistocles  forget  it,  he  tells  us  he  sailed  from 
thence  to  Sicily,  and  demanded  king  Hiero’s  daughter  in  mar¬ 
riage,  promising  to  bring  the  Greeks  under  his  subjection; 
and  that,  upon  Hiero’s  refusal,  he  passed  over  into  Asia.  But 
this  is  not  probable:  for  Theophrastus,  in  his  treatise  on  mo¬ 
narchy,  relates,  that  when  Hiero  sent  his  race-horses  to  the 
Olympic  games,  and  set  up  a  superb  pavilion  there,  Themis¬ 
tocles  harangued  the  Greeks,  to  persuade  them  to  pull  it  down, 
and  not  to  suffer  the  tyrant’s  horses  to  run.  Thucydides 
writes,  that  he  went  by  land  to  the  iEgean  sea,  and  embarked 

pie  of  Corcyra  in  an  affair  of  great  importance.  The  states  of  Greece  were 
inclined  to  make  war  upon  that  island,  for  not  joining  in  the  league  against 
Xerxes:  but  Themistocles  represented,  that  if  they  were  in  that  manner  to 
punish  all  the  cities  that  had  not  acceded  to  the  league,  their  proceedings 
would  bring  greater  calamities  upon  Greece  than  it  had  suffered  from  the 
barbarians. 

*  It  was  nothing  particular  for  a  suppliant  to  do  homage  to  the  household 
gods  of  the  person  to  whom  he  had  a  request;  but  to  do  it  with  the  king'* 
son  in  his  arms,  was  an  extraordinary  circumstance. 

V'oj..  t.  — * 2  L  23 


250 


THEM1STOCLES. 


at  Pydna;  that  none  in  the  ship  knew  him,  till  he  was  drive  n 
by  a  storm  to  Naxos,  which  was  at  that  time  besieged  by  the. 
Athenians;  that  through  fear  of  being  taken,  he  then  informed 
the  master  of  the  ship  and  the  pilot  who  he  was;  and  that  part 
ly  by  entreaties,  partly  by  threatening,  he  would  declare  to 
the  Athenians,  however  falsely,  that  they  knew  him  from  the 
first,  and  were  bribed  to  take  him  into  their  vessel,  he  obliged 
them  to  weigh  anchor,  and  sail  for  Asia. 

The  greatest  part  of  his  treasures  was  privately  sent  after 
him  to  Asia  by  his  friends.  What  was  discovered  and  seized 
for  the  public  use,  Theopompus  says,  amounted  to  a  hundred 
talents,  Theophrastus  fourscore;  though  he  was  not  worth 
three  talents  before  his  employment  in  the  government.* 

When  he  was  landed  at  Cuma,  he  understood  that  a  num¬ 
ber  of  people,  particularly  Ergoteles  and  Pythadorus,  were 
watching  to  take  him.  He  was,  indeed,  a  rich  booty  to  those 
that  were  determined  to  get  money  by  any  means  whatever; 
for  the  king  of  Persia  had  offered,  by  proclamation,  two  hun¬ 
dred  talents  for  apprehending  him.T  He,  therefore,  retired 
to  iEgae,  a  little  town  of  the  iEolians,  where  he  was  known 
to  nobody  but  Nicogenes,  his  host,  who  was  a  man  of  great 
wealth,  and  had  some  interest  at  the  Persian  court.  In  his 
house  he  was  concealed  a  few  days;  and,  one  evening  after 
supper,  when  the  sacrifice  was  offered,  Olbius,  tutor  to  Nico 
genes’s  children  cried  out,  as  in  a  rapture  of  inspiration, — 

Counsel,  O  Night,  and  victory  are  thine. 

After  this,  Themistocies  went  to  bed,  and  dreamed  he  saw 
a  dragon  coiled  round  his  body,  and  creeping  up  to  his  neck; 
which,  as  soon  as  it  touched  his  face,  was  turned  into  an  eagle, 
and,  covering  him  with  its  wings,  took  him  up,  and  carried 
him  to  a  distant  place,  where  a  golden  sceptre  appeared  to 
him,  upon  which  he  rested  securely,  and  was  delivered  from 
all  his  fear  and  trouble. 

In  consequence  of  this  warning,  he  was  sent  away  by  Nico 
genes,  who  contrived  this  method  for  it.  The  barbarians  in 
general,  especially  the  Persians,  are  jealous  of  the  women  eve  n 
to  madness;  not  only  of  their  wives,  but  their  slaves  and  con- 
cubines;  for,  beside  the  care  they  take  that  they  shall  be  seer. 

*  This  is  totally  inconsistent  with  that  splendour  in  which,  according  to 
Plutarch’s  own  account,  he  lived,  before  he  had  any  public  appointments. 

f  The  resentment  of  Xerxes  is  not  at  all  to  be  wondered  at,  since  The¬ 
mistocies  had  not  only  beaten  him  in  the  battle  of  Salamis,  but  what  was 
more  disgraceful  still,  had  made  him  a  dupe  to  his  designing  persuasions 
and  representations.  In  the  loss  of  victory,  he  had  some  consolation,  as  he 
was  not  himself  the  immediate  cause  of  it^  but  for  his  ridiculous  return  to 
his  angre’’  could  only  fall  upon  himself  and  Themistocies. 


THEMISTOCLES. 


25 1 

by  none  but  their  own  family,  they  keep  them  like  prisoners 
in  their  houses;  and  when  they  take  a  journey,  they  are  put 
in  a  carriage,  close  covered  on  all  sides.  In  such  a  carriage 
as  this,  Themistocles  was  conveyed,  the  attendants  being  in¬ 
structed  to  tell  those  they  met,  if  they  happened  to  be  ques¬ 
tioned,  that  they  were  carrying  a  Grecian  lady  from  Ionia  to 
a  nobleman  at  court. 

Thucydides,  and  Charon  of  Lampsachus,  relate,  that  Xerxes 
was  then  dead,  and  that  it  was  to  his  son*  Artaxerxes  that 
Themistocles  addressed  himself.  But  Ephorus,  Dinon,  Cli- 
tarchus,  Heraclides,  and  several  others,  write,  that  Xerxes 
himself  was  then  upon  the  throne.  The  opinion  of  Thucy¬ 
dides  seems  most  agreeable  to  chronology,  though  it  is  not 
perfectly  well  settled.  Themistocles,  now  ready  for  the  dan¬ 
gerous  experiment,  applied  first  to  Artabanus,t  a  military  offi¬ 
cer,  and  told  him, — “  He  was  a  Greek,  who  desired  to  have 
audience  of  the  king  about  matters  of  great  importance,  which 
the  king  himself  had  much  at  heart.  ”  Artabanus  answered, — 
“The  laws  of  men  are  different;  some  esteem  one  thing  ho¬ 
nourable,  and  some  another;  but  it  becomes  all  men  to  honour 
and  observe  the  customs  of  their  own  country.  With  you  the 
thing  most  admired,  is  said  to  be  liberty  and  equality.  We 
have  many  excellent  laws;  and  we  regard  it  as  one  of  the  most 
indispensable,  to  honour  the  king,  and  to  adore  him  as  the 
image  of  that  deity  who  preserves  and  supports  the  universe 
If,  therefore,  you  are  willing  to  conform  to  our  customs,  ana 
to  prostrate  yourself  before  the  king,  you  may  be  permitted 
to  see  him  and  speak  to  him.  But  if  you  can  not  bring  your¬ 
self  to  this,  you  must  acquaint  him  with  your  business  by  a 
third  person.  It  would  be  an  infringement  of  the  custom  of 
his  country,  for  the  king  to  admit  any  one  to  audience  that 
does  not  worship  him.”  To  this  Themistocles  replied, — 
“  My  business,  Artabanus,  is  to  add  to  the  king’s  honour  and 
power;  therefore,  I  will  comply  with  your  customs,  since  the 
god  that  has  exalted  the  Persians  will  have  it  so,  and  by  my 
means  the  number  of  the  king’s  worshippers  shall  be  increas¬ 
ed.  So  let  this  be  no  hindrance  to  my  communicating  to  the 
king  what  I  have  to  say.” — “But  who,”  said  Artabanus, 
“shall  we  say  you  are?  for  by  your  discourse  you  appear  1o 
be  no  ordinary  person.”  Themistocles  answered, — “No¬ 
body  must  know  that  before  the  king  himself.”  So  Phanks 

*  Themistocles,  therefore,  arrived  at  the  Persian  court  in  the  finit  year  of 
the  seventy-ninth  Olympiad,  462  years  before  the  birth  of  Christ;  for  that 
was  the  first  year  of  Artaxerxes’s  reign. 

-j-  Son  of  that  Artabanus,  captain  of  the  guards,  who  slew  Xerxce,  and 
persuaded  Artaxerxes  to  cut  off  his  elder  brother  Darius. 


252 


THEMISTOCLES. 


writes;  and  Eratosthenes,  in  his  treatise  on  riches,  adds,  tha* 
Themistocles  was  brought  acquainted  with  Artabanus,  and  re¬ 
commended  to  him  by  an  Eretrian  woman,  who  belonged  to 
that  officer. 

When  he  was  introduced  to  the  king,  and,  after  his  prostra¬ 
tion,  stood  silent,  the  king  commanded  the  interpreter  to  ask 
him  who  he  was.  The  interpreter  accordingly  put  the  ques¬ 
tion,  and  he  answered, — “The  man  that  is  now  come  to  ad¬ 
dress  himself  to  you,  0  king,  is  Themistocles  the  Athenian;  an 
exile,  persecuted  by  the  Greeks.  The  Persians  have  suffered 
much  by  me,  but  it  has  been  more  than  compensated  by  my 
preventing  your  being  pursued:  when,  after  I  had  delivered 
Greece,  and  saved  my  own  country,  I  had  it  in  my  power  to 
do  you  also  a  service.  My  sentiments  are  suitable  to  my  pre¬ 
sent  misfortunes,  and  I  come  prepared  either  to  receive  your 
favour,  if  you  are  reconciled  to  me,  or,  if  you  retain  any  re¬ 
sentment,  to  disarm  it  by  my  submission.  Reject  not  the  tes¬ 
timony  my  enemies  have  given  to  the  services  I  have  done  the 
Persians,  and  make  use  of  the  opportunity  my  misfortunes  af¬ 
ford  you,  rather  to  show  your  generosity,  than  to  satisfy  your 
revenge.  If  you  save  me,  you  save  your  suppliant;  if  you 
destroy  me,  you  destroy  the  enemy  of  Greece.  *  In  hopes  of 
influencing  the  king  by  an  argument  drawn  from  religion, 
Themistocles  added  to  this  speech  an  account  of  the  vision  he 
had  in  Nicogenes’  house,  and  an  oracle  of  Jupiter  of  Dodona, 
which  ordered  him — “  to  go  to  one  who  bore  the  same  name 
with  the  god;”  from  which  he  concluded  he  was  sent  to  him, 
since  both  were  called,  and  really  were  great  kings. 

The  king  gave  him  no  answer,  though  he  admired  his  cou¬ 
rage  and  magnanimity;  but,  with  his  friends,  he  felicitated 
himself  upon  this,  as  the  most  fortunate  event  imaginable.  We 
are  told  also,  that  he  prayed  to  Arimanius, t  that  his  enemies 
might  ever  be  so  infatuated,  as  to  drive  from  amongst  them 
their  ablest  men;  that  he  offered  sacrifice  to  the  gods,  and  im¬ 
mediately  after  made  a  great  entertainment;  nay  that  he  was 
so  affected  with  joy,  that  when  he  retired  to  rest,  in  the  midst 
of  his  sleep,  he  called  out  three  times, — “I  have  Themisto-. 
cles  the  Athenian.” 

As  soon  as  it  was  day,  he  called  together  his  friends,  and 
ordered  Themistocles  to  be  brought  before  him.  The  exile 
expected  no  favour,  when  he  found  that  the  guards,  at  the  first 
hearing  of  his  name,  treated  him  with  rancour,  and  loaded 
him  with  reproaches.  Nay,  when  the  king  had  taken  his  seat, 

*  How  extremely  abject  and  contemptible  is  this  petition,  wherein  the 
suppliant  founds  every  argument  in  his  favour  upon  his  vices ! 

f  The  g*od  of  <  lateness,  the  supposed  author  of  plag-ues  and  calamities,  was 
called  Ahri man  or  \rimanius. 


THEMISTOCLES. 


253 


and  a  respectful  silence  ensued,  Roxanes,  one  of  his  officers, 
as  Themistocles  passed  him,  whispered  h  im,  with  a  sigh, — 
i 6  Ah!  thou  subtle  serpent  of  Greece,  the  king’s  good  genius 
has  brought  thee  hither.”  However,  when  he  had  prostrated 
himself  twice  in  the  presence,  the  king  saluted  him,  and  spoke 
to  him  graciously,  telling  him, — “  He  owed  him  two  hundred 
talents,  for  as  he  had  delivered  himself  up,  it  was  but  just  that 
he  should  receive  the  reward  offered  to  any  one  that  should 
bring  him.”  He  promised  him  much  more,  assured  him  of 
his  protection,  and  ordered  him  to  declare  freely  whatever  he 
had  to  propose  concerning  Greece.  Themistocles  replied, — 
“  That  a  man’s  discourse  was  like  a  piece  of  tapestry,'*  which, 
when  spread  open  displays  its  figures;  but  when  it  is  folded 
up,  they  are  hidden  and  lost;  therefore  he  begged  time.”  The 
king,  delighted  with  the  comparison,  bade  him  take  what  time 
he  pleased;  and  he  desired  a  year;  in  which  space  he  learned 
the  Persian  language,  so  as  to  be  able  to  converse  with  the 
king  without  an  interpreter. 

Such  as  did  not  belong  to  the  court,  believed  that  he  enter 
tained  their  prince  on  the  subject  of  the  Grecian  affairs:  but 
as  there  were  then  many  changes  in  the  ministry,  he  incurred 
the  envy  of  the  nobility,  who  suspected  that  he  had  presumed 
to  speak  too  freely  of  them  to  the  king.  The  honours  that 
were  paid  him  were  far  superior  to  those  that  other  strangers 
had  experienced;  the  king  took  him  with  him  a  hunting,  con¬ 
versed  familiarly  with  him  in  his  palace,  and  introduced  him 
to  the  queen-mother,  who  honoured  him  with  her  confidence. 
He  likewise  gave  orders  for  his  being  instructed  in  the  learn¬ 
ing  of  the  Magi. 

Demaratus  the  Lacedaemonian,  who  was  then  at  court,  being 
ordered  to  ask  a  favour,  desired  that  he  might  be  carried 
through  Sardis  in  royal  state,!  with  a  diadem  upon  his  head. 
But  Mithropaustes,  the  king’s  cousin-german,  took  him  by  the 
hand,  and  said, — “Demaratus,  this  diadem  does  not  carry 
brains  along  with  it  to  cover;  nor  would  you  be  Jupiter,  though 
you  should  take  hold  of  his  thunder.”  The  king  was  highly 
displeased  at  Demaratus  for  making  this  request,  and  seemed 
determined  never  to  forgive  him;  yet,  at  the  desire  of  Themis¬ 
tocles,  he  was  persuaded  to  be  reconciled  to  him.  And  in  the 
following  reigns,  when  the  affairs  of  Persia  and  Greece  were 
more  closely  connected,  as  oft  as  the  kings  requested  a  favour 
of  any  Grecian  captain,  they  are  said  to  have  promised  him,  in 

*  In  this  he  artfully  conformed  to  the  figurative  manner  of  speaking*  in 
use  among  the  eastern  nations. 

t  This  was  the  highest  mark  of  honour  which  the  Persian  kings  could 
giv  e.  Ahasuerus,  the  same  with  Xerxes,  the  father  of  this  Artaxerxes,  had 
not  long  before  ordained  that  Mordecai  should  be  honoured  in  that  manner 

23* 


tiiemistocl.es 


express  firms, — 44  That  he  should  be  a  greater  man  at  the  r* 
court  than  Themistocles  had  been.”  Nay  we  are  told  tha 
Themistocles  himself,  in  the  midst  of  his  greatness,  and  the 
extraordinary  respect  that  was  paid  him,  seeing  his  table  most 
elegantly  spread,  turned  to  his  children,  and  said, — 44  Children 
we  should  have  been  undone,  had  it  not  been  for  our  undoing.” 
Mist  authors  agree,  that  he  had  three  cities  given  him,  for 
bread,  wine,  and  meat,  Magnesia,  Lampsacus,  and  My  us.* 
Neanthes  of  Cyzicus,  and  Phanias,  add  two  more,  Percoteand 
Palsecepsis,  for  his  chamber  and  his  wardrobe. 

Some  business  relative  to  Greece  having  brought  him  to  the. 
sea-coast,  a  Persian,  named  Epixyes,  governor  of  Uppei 
Phrygia,  who  had  a  design  upon  his  life,  and  had  long  pre 
pared  certain  Pisidians  to  kill  him,  when  he  should  lodge  in  a 
city  called  Leontocephalus,  or  Lion's  Head ,  now  determined 
to  put  it  in  execution.  But,  as  he  lay  sleeping  one  day  at  noon, 
the  mother  of  the  gods  is  said  to  have  appeared  to  him  in  a 
dream,  and  thus  to  have  addressed  him:  44  Beware,  Themisto¬ 
cles,  of  the  Lion’s  Head,  lest  the  lion  crush  you.  For  this 
warning  I  require  of  you  Mnesiptolema  for  my  servant.” 
Themistocles  awoke  in  great  disorder:  and  when  he  had  de¬ 
voutly  returned  thanks  to  the  goddess,  left  the  high-road,  and 
took  another  wav?  to  avoid  the  place  of  danger.  At  night  he 
took  up  his  lodging  beyond  it;  but  as  one  of  the  horses  that  had 
carried  his  tent  had  fallen  into  a  river,  and  his  servants  wrere 
busied  in  spreading  the  wet  hangings  to  dry,  the  Pisidians, 
who  were  advancing  with  their  swords  drawn,  saw  these  hang¬ 
ings  indistinctly  by  moon-light,  and  taking  them  for  the  tent 
of  Themistocles,  expected  to  find  him  reposing  himself  within. 
They  approached  therefore,  and  lifted  up  the  hangings;  but 
the  servants  that  had  the  care  of  them,  fell  upon  them  and 
took  them.  The  danger  thus  avoided,  Themistocles,  admir¬ 
ing  the  goodness  of  the  goddess  that  appeared  to  him,  built  a 
temple  in  Magnesia,  wdiichhe  dedicated  to  Cybele  Dindymene , 
and  appointed  his  daughter  Mnesiptolema  priestess  of  it. 

When  he  was  come  to  Sardis,  he  diverted  himself  with  look- 

*  The  country  about  Magnesia  was  so  fertile,  that  it  brought  Themistocles 
a  revenue  of  fifty  talents;  Lampsacus  had  in  its  neighbourhood  the  noblest 
vineyards  of  the  east;  and  Myus,  or  Myon,  abounded  in  provisions,  particu¬ 
larly  in  fish.  It  was  usual  with  the  eastern  monarchs,  instead  of  pensions  to 
their  favourites,  to  assign  them  cities  and  provinces.  Even  such  provinces 
as  the  kings  retained  the  revenue  of,  were  under  particular  assignments;  one 
piovince  furnishing  so  much  for  wine,  another  for  victuals,  a  third  for  the 
privy  purse,  and  a  fourth  for  the  wardrobe.  One  of  the  queens  had  all  Egypl 
for  her  clothing;  5..id  Plato  tells  (1  Alcibiad.)  that  many  of  the  provinces 
were  appropriated  for  the  queen’s  wardrobe :  one  for  her  girdle,  another  for 
her  head-dress,  and  so  of  the  rest;  and  each  province  bore  the  name  of  that 
part  of  t  he  dress  it  was  to  furnish. 


THEMISTOCLES. 


255 

ing  upon  the  ornaments  of  the  temples;  and  among  the  great 
number  of  offerings,  he  found  in  the  temple  of  Cvbele  a  female 
figure  of  brass,  two  cubits  high,  called  Hydrophorus ,  or  the 
water-bearer:  which  he  himself,  when  surveyor  of  the  aque¬ 
ducts  at  Athens,  had  caused  to  be  made  and  dedicated  out  of 
the  fines  of  such  as  had  stolen  the  water,  or  diverted  the  stream. 
Whether  it  was  that  ho  was  moved  at  seeing  this  statue  in  a 
strange  country,  or  that  he  was  desirous  to  show  the  Atheni¬ 
ans  how  much  he  was  honoured,*  and  what  power  he  had  all 
over  the  king’s  dominions,  he  addressed  himself  to  the  go¬ 
vernor  of  Lydia,  and  begged  leave  to  send  back  the  statue  to 
Athens.  The  barbarian  immediately  took  fire,  and  said,  he 
would  certainly  acquaint  the  king  what  sort  of  a  request  he 
had  made  him.  Themistocles,  alarmed  at  this  menace,  appli¬ 
ed  to  the  governor’s  women,  and,  by  money,  prevailed  upon 
them  to  pacify  him.  After  this  he  behaved  with  more  pru¬ 
dence,  sensible  how  much  he  had  to  fear  from  the  envy  of  the 
Persians.  Hence,  lie  did  not  travel  about  Asia,  as  Theopom- 
pus  says,  but  took  up  his  abode  at  Magnesia,  where,  loaded 
with  valuable  presents,  and  equally  honoured  with  the  Persian 
nobles,  he  long  lived  in  great  security;  for  the  king,  who  was 
engaged  in  the  affairs  of  the  upper  provinces,  gave  but  little 
attention  to  the  concerns  of  Greece. 

Put  when  Egypt  revolted,  and  was  supported  in  that  revolt 
by  the  Athenians,  when  the  Grecian  fleet  sailed  as  far  as  Cy¬ 
prus  and  Cilicia,  and  Cimon  rode  triumphant  master  of  the 
seas,  then  the  king  of  Persia  applied  himself  to  oppose  the 
Greeks,  and  to  prevent  the  growth  of  their  power.  He  put 
his  force  in  motion,  sent  out  his  generals,  and  despatched  mes 
sengers  to  Themistocles  at  Magnesia,  to  command  him  to  per¬ 
form  his  promises,  and  exert  himself  against  Greece.  Did  he 
not  obey  the  summons  then?  No;  neither  resentment  against 
the  Athenians,  nor  the  honours  and  authority  in  which  he  now 
nourished,  could  prevail  upon  him  to  take  the  direction  of  the 
expedition.  Possibly  he  might  doubt  the  event  of  the  war,  as 
Greece  had  then  several  great  generals;  and  Cimon  in  particu¬ 
lar  was  distinguished  with  extraordinary  success.  Above  all, 
regard  for  his  own  achievements,  and  the  trophies  he  hid 

*  It  is  not  improbable  that  this  proceeded  from  a  principle  of  vanity.  1  lie 
love  of  admiration  was  the  ruling1  passion  of  Themistocles,  and  discovers  it¬ 
self  uniformly  through  his  whole  conduct.  There  might,  however,  be  ano¬ 
ther  reason,  which  Plutarch  has  not  mentioned.  Themistocles  was  an  ex¬ 
cellent  manager  in  political  religion.  lie  had  lately  been  eminently  distin¬ 
guished  by  the  favour  of  Cybele;  he  finds  an  Athenian  statue  in  her  temple. 
The  goddess  consents  that  he  should  send  it  to  Athens;  and  the  Athenians, 
out  of  respect  to  the  goddess,  must  of  col  irse  cease  to  persecute  her  favour* 
ite  Themistocles. 


256 


THEMISTOCLES. 


gained,  whose  glory  he  was  unwilling  to  tarnish,  determined 
him  (as  the  best  method  he  could  take)  to  put  such  an  end  to 
his  life  as  became  his  dignity.*  Having,  therefore,  sacrificed 
to  the  gods,  assembled  his  friends,  and  taken  his  last  leave,  he 
drank  duII’s  blood, t  as  is  generally  reported;  or,  as  some  re¬ 
late  it,  he  took  a  quick  poison,  and  ended  his  days  in  Magne 
sia,  having  lived  sixty-five  years,  most  of  which  he  had  spe*  t 
in  civil  or  military  employments.  When  the  king  was  ac¬ 
quainted  with  the  cause  and  manner  of  his  death,  he  admired 
him  more  than  ever,  and  continued  his  favour  and  oounty  to 
his  friends  and  relations.  J 

Themistocles  had  by  Archippe,  the  daughter  of  Lysandcr 
of  Alopece,  five  sons,  Neocles,  Diodes,  Archeptolis,  Po- 
lyeuctes,  and  Cleophantus.  The  three  last  survived  him. 
Plato  takes  notice  of  Cleophantus  as  an  excellent  horseman, 
but  a  man  of  no  merit  in  other  respects.  Neocles,  his  eldest 
son,  died  when  a  child,  by  the  bite  of  a  horse;  and  Diodes 
was  adopted  by  his  grandfather  Lysander.  He  had  several 
daughters;  namely,  Mnesiptolema,  by  a  second  wife,  who  was 
married  to  Archeptolis,  her  half  brother;  Italia,  whose  hus¬ 
band  was  Panthides  of  Chios;  Sibaris,  married  to  Nicomedes 
the  Athenian;  and  Nichomache,  at  Magnesia,  to  Phrasicles, 
the  nephew  of  Themistocles,  who,  after  her  father’s  death, 
took  a  voyage  for  that  purpose,  received  her  at  the  hands  of 
her  brothers,  and  brought  up  her  sister  Asia,  the  youngest  of 
Hie  children. 

The  Magnesians  erected  a  very  handsome  monument  to  him 
which  still  remains  in  the  market-place.  No  credit  is  to  be  giv¬ 
en  to  Andocides,  who  writesto  his  friends,  that  the  Athenians 
stole  his  ashes  out  of  the  tomb,  and  scattered  them  in  the  air; 
for  it  is  an  artifice  of  his  to  exasperate  the  nobility  against  the 
people.  Phylarchus  too,  more  like  a  writer  of  tragedy  than 
an  historian,  availing  himself  of  what  may  be  called  a  piece  of 
machinery,  introduces  Neocles  and  Demopolis,  as  the  sons  of 
Themistocles,  to  make  his  story  more  interesting  and  pathetic. 
But  a  very  moderate  degree  of  sagacity  may  discover  it  to  be 
a  fiction.  Yet  Diodorus  the  geographer  writes,  in  his  treatise 

*  Thucydides,  who  was  contemporary  with  Themistocles,  only  says, — “  he 
died  of  a  distemper;  but  some  report  that  he  poisoned  himself,  seeing*  it  im¬ 
possible  to  accomplish  what  he  had  promised  the  king*.” — Thucydid.  de  Bell. 
Belopon.  hi. 

■j*  Whilst  they  were  sacrificing*  the  bull,  he  caused  the  blood  to  be  receiv¬ 
ed  in  a  cup,  and  drank  it  whilst  it  was  warm,  which  (according*  to  Pliny)  is 
mortal,  because  it  coag-ulates  or  thickens  in  an  instant. 

t  There  is,  in  our  opinion,  more  true  heroism  in  the  death  of  Themisto¬ 
cles  than  in  the  death  of  Cato.  It  is  something*  enthusiastically  great,  when 
a.  man  determines  not  to  survive  his  liberty;  but  it  is  something*  still  greater, 
when  he  refuses  to  survive  his  honour. 


TIIEMISTOCLES. 


257 


of  sepulchres, but  rather  by  conjecture  than  certain  knowledge, 
that,  near  the  harbour  of  Piraeus,  from  the  promontory  of  Alci- 
mus,*  the  land  makes  an  elbow,  and  when  you  have  doubled 
itinwTards,  by  the  still  water,  there  is  a  vast  foundation,  upon 
which  stands  the  tomb  of  Themistocles,t  in  the  form  of  an  al¬ 
tar.  With  him  Plato,  the  comic  writer,  is  supposed  to  agree 
in  the  following  lines: — 

Oft  as  the  merchant  speeds  the  passing*  sail. 

Thy  tomb,  Themistocles,  he  stops  to  hail; 

When  hostile  ships  in  martial  combat  meet. 

Thy  shade  attending,  hovers  o’er  the  fleet. 

Various  honours  and  privileges  were  granted  by  the  Mag 
nesians  to  the  descendants  of  Themistocles,  which  continued 
down  to  our  times;  for  they  were  enjoyed  by  one  of  his  name, 
an  Athenian,  with  whom  I  had  a  particular  acquaintance  and 
friendship  in  the  house  of  Ammonius  the  philosopher. 

*  Meursius  rightly  corrects  it  Alimus.  We  find  no  place  in  Attica  called 
Alcimus ,  but  a  borough  named  Alimus  there  was,  on  the  east  of  the  Piraeus. 

-j-  Thucydides  says  that  the  bones  of  Themistocles,  by  his  own  command, 
were  privately  carried  back  into  Attica,  and  buried  there.  But  Pausanias 
agrees  with  Theodorus,  that  the  Athenians,  repenting  of  their  ill  usage  of  this 
great  man,  honoured  him  with  a  tomb  in  the  Piraeus. 

It  does  not  appear,  indeed,  that  Themistocles,  when  banished,  had  any 
design  either  to  revenge  himself  on  Athens,  or  to  take  refuge  in  the  court 
of  the  king  of  Persia.  The  Greeks  themselves  forced  him  upon  this,  or  ra¬ 
ther  the  Lacedaemonians;  for,  as  by  their  intrigues  his  countrymen  were  in¬ 
duced  to  banish  him;  so,  by  their  imp ortum ties  after  he  was  banished,  1*2 
was  not  suffered  to  enjoy  any  refuge  in  quiet*. 


Vol  i - 2  M 


THE 


LIFE  OF  CAMILLUS. 


Among  the  many  remarkable  things  related  of  Furius  Ca- 
millus,  the  most  extraordinary  seems  to  be  this,  that  thougn 
lie  was  often  in  the  highest  commands,  and  performed  the 
greatest  actions;  though  he  was  five  times  chosen  dictator; 
though  he  triumphed  four  times,  and  was  styled  the  second 
founder  of  Rome;  yet  he  was  never  once  consul.  Perhaps 
we  may  discover  the  reason  in  the  state  of  the  commonwealth 
at  that  time;  the  people  then  at  variance  with  the  senate,*  re¬ 
fused  to  elect  consuls,  and,  instead  of  them,  put  the  govern¬ 
ment  in  the  hands  of  military  tribunes.  Though  these  acted, 
indeed,  with  consular  power  and  authority,  yet  their  adminis¬ 
tration  was  less  grievous  to  the  people,  because  they  were 
more  in  number.  To  have  the  direction  of  affairs  entrusted 
to  six  persons  instead  of  two,  was  some  ease  and  satisfaction 
to  a  people  that  could  not  bear  to  be  dictated  to  by  the  nobili¬ 
ty.  Camillus,  then  distinguished  by  his  achievements,  and 
at  the  height  of  glory,  did  not  choose  to  be  consul  against  the 
inclinations  of  the  people,  though  the  comitia ,  or  assemblies  in 
which  they  might  have  elected  consuls,  were  several  times 
held  in  that  period.  In  all  his  other  commissions,  which  wrere 
many  and  various,  he  so  conducted  himself,  that  if  he  was  en¬ 
trusted  with  the  sole  powder,  he  shared  it  with  others,  and  if 
he  had  a  colleague,  the  glory  was  his  own.  The  authority 
seemed  to  be  shared  by  reason  of  his  great  modesty  in  com¬ 
mand,  which  gave  no  occasion  to  envy;  and  the  glory  was  se¬ 
cured  to  him  by  his  genius  and  capacity,  in  which  he  was  uni¬ 
versally  allowed  to  have  no  equal. 

The  family  of  the  Furiit  was  not  very  illustrious  before  his 

*  The  old  quarrel  about  the  distribution  of  lands  v  vs  revived,  the  peo¬ 
ple  insisting'  that  every  citizen  should  have  an  equal  share.  The  senate 
met  frequently  to  disconcert  the  proposal;  and  at  last  Appius  Claudius  mov- 
et\  that  some  of  the  colleg'e  of  the  tribunes  of  the  people  should  be  gained, 
as  the  only  remedy  ag-ainst  the  tyranny  of  that  body;  which  was  accord¬ 
ingly  put  in  execution.  The  commons,  tfjus  disappointed,  chose  military 
tribunes  instead  of  consuls,  andsome  times  had  them  all  plebeians. — Liv.  1. 
iv.  c.  48. 

f  Furius  was  the  family  name.  Camillus  (as  has  been  already  observed) 


CAMILLUS. 


259 


time,  he  was  the  first  that  raised  it  to  distinction,  when  he 
served  under  Posthumius  Tibertius,  in  the  great  battle  with 
the  Equi  and  Volsci.*  In  that  action,  spurring  his  horse  be¬ 
fore  the  ranks,  he  received  a  wound  in  the  thigh,  when,  in¬ 
stead  of  retiring,  he  plucked  the  javelin  out  of  the  wound,  en 
gaged  with  the  bravest  of  the  enemy,  and  put  them  to  flight 
For  this,  among  other  honours,  he  was  appointed  censor,  an 
office,  at  that  time,  of  great  dignity,  t  There  is  upon  record 
a  very  laudable  act  of  his,  that  took  place  during  his  office. 
As  the  wars  had  made  many  widows,  he  obliged  such  of  the 
men  as  lived  single,  partly  by  persuasion,  and  partly  by  threat¬ 
ening  them  with  fines,  to  marry  those  widows.  Another  act 
of  his,  which,  indeed,  was  absolutely  necessary,  was,  the  caus¬ 
ing  orphans,  who  before  were  exempt  from  taxes,  to  contri¬ 
bute  to  the  supplies;  for  these  were  very  large,  by  reason  of  the 
continual  wars.  What  was  then  most  urgent  was  the  siege  of 
Veii,  whose  inhabitants  some  call  Venetani.  This  city  was  the 
barrier  of  Tuscany,  and  in  the  quantity  of  her  arms,  and  num¬ 
ber  of  her  military,  not  inferior  to  Rome.  Proud  of  her 
wealth,  her  elegance,  and  luxury,  she  had  maintained  with  the 
Romans  many  long  and  gallant  disputes  for  glory  and  for 
power.  But  humbled  by  many  signal  defeats,  the  Yeientes 
had  then  bid  adieu  to  that  ambition;  they  satisfied  themselves 
with  building  strong  and  high  wall's,  and  filling  the  city  with 
provisions,  arms,  and  all  kinds  of  warlike  stores;  and  so  they 
waited  for  the  enemy  without  fear.  The  siege  was  long,  but 
no  less  laborious  and  troublesome  to  the  besiegers  than  to  them . 
For  the  Romans  had  long  been  accustomed  to  summer  cam¬ 
paigns  only,  and  to  winter  at  home;  and  then  for  the  first  time 
their  officers  ordered  them  to  construct  forts,  to  raise  strong 

was  an  appellation  of  children  of  qu*;iiy,  who  ministered  in  the  temple  of 
some  god.  Oar  Camillus  was  the  first  who  retained  it  as  a  surname. 

*  This  was  in  the  year  of  Rome  324,  when  Camillus  might  be  about  four¬ 
teen  or  fifteen  years  of  age  (for  in  the  year  of  Rome  389,  he  was  near  four¬ 
score),  though  the  Roman  youth  did  not  use  to  bear  arms  sooner  than  se¬ 
venteen.  And  though  Plutarch  says,  that  his  gallant  behaviour,  at  that 
time,  procured  him  the  censorship,  yet  that  was  an  office  which  the  Romans 
never  conferred  upon  a  young  person;  and,  in  fact,  Camillus  was  not  censor 
till  the  year  of  Rome  353. 

|  The  authority  of  the  censors,  in  the  time  of  the  republic,  was  very  ex¬ 
tensive.  They  had  power  to  expel  senators  the  house,  to  degrade  the 
knights,  and  to  disable  the  commons  from  giving  their  votes  in  the  assem¬ 
blies  of  the  people.  But  the  emperors  took  the  office  upon  themselves; 
and  as  many  of  them  abused  it,  it  lost  its  honour,  and  sometimes  the  very 
title  was  laid  aside.  As  to  what  Plutarch  says,  that  Camillus,  when  censor, 
obliged  many  of  the  bachelors  to  marry  the  widows  of  those  who  had  fallen 
in  the  wars;  that  was  in  pursuance  of  one  of  the  powers  of  his  office. 
Calibcs  esse  prohibento. 


CAMILLAS. 


2bO 


works  about  their  camp,  and  to  pass  the  winter  as  well  as  Sl  m 
mer  in  the  enemy’s  country. 

The  seventh  year  of  the  war  was  now  almost  past,  when  the 
generals  began  to  be  blamed;  and  as  it  was  thought  they 
showed  not  sufficient  vigour  in  the  siege, *  they  were  super¬ 
seded,  and  others  put  in  their  room;  among  whom  was  Camil- 
lus,  then  appointed  tribune  the  second  time.t  He  was  not, 
however,  at  present  concerned  in  the  siege,  for  it  fell  to  his 
lot  to  head  the  expedition  against  the  Falisei  and  Capenates, 
who,  while  the  Romans  were  otherwise  employed,  commit¬ 
ted  great  depredations  in  their  country,  and  harassed  them  dur¬ 
ing  the  whole  Tuscan  war.  But  Camillas  falling  upon  them, 
killed  great  numbers,  and  shut  up  the  rest  within  their  walls. 

During  the  heat  of  the  war,  a  phenomenon  appeared  in  the 
Alban  lake,  which  might  be  reckoned  amongst  the  strangest 
prodigies;  and  as  no  common  or  natural  cause  could  be  assign¬ 
ed  for  it,  it  occasioned  great  consternation.  The  summer  was 
now  declining,  and  the  season  by  no  means  rainy,  nor  re¬ 
markable  for  south  winds.  Of  the  many  springs,  brooks,  and 
lakes  which  Italy  abounds  with,  some  were  dried  up,  and 
others  bpt  feebly  resisted  the  drought;  the  rivers,  always  lowT 
in  the  summer,  then  ran  with  a  very  slender  stream.  But  the 
Alban  lake,  which  has  its  source  within  itself,  and  discharges 
no  part  of  its  water,  being  quite  surrounded  with  mountains, 
without  any  cause,  unless  it  was  a  supernatural  one,  began  to 
rise  and  swell  in  a  most  remarkable  manner,  increasing  till  it 
reached  the  sides,  and  at  last  the  very  tops  of  the  hills;  all 
which  happened  without  any  agitation  of  its  waters.  For  a 
while  it  was  the  wonder  of  the  shepherds  and  herdsmen;  but 
when  the  earth,  which,  like  a  mole,  kept  it  from  overflowing 
the  country  below,  was  broken  down  with  the  quantity  and 
weight  of  water,  then  descending  like  a  torrent  through  the 
ploughed  fields  and  other  cultivated  grounds  to  the  sea,  it  not 
only  astonished  the  Romans,  but  was  thought  by  all  Italy  to 
portend  some  extraordinary  event.  It  was  the  great  subject 
of  conversation  in  the  camp  before  Veii,  so  that  it  came  at  last 
to  be  known  to  the  besieged. 

*  Of  the  six  military  tribunes  of  that  year,  only  two,  L  Virginius  and  Ma 
nius  Sergius  carried  on  the  siege  of  Veii.  Sergius  commanded  the  attack, 
and  Virginius  covered  the  siege.  While  the  army  was  thus  divided,  the 
Falisei  and  Capenates  fell  upon  Sergius,  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  besieged 
sallying  out,  attacked  him  on  the  other  side.  The  Romans  under  his  com- 
mand,  thinking  they  had  all  the  forces  of  Hetruria  to  deal  with,  began  to 
lose  courage,  and  retire.  Virginius  could  have  saved  his  colleague’s  troops, 
but  as  Sergius  was  too  proud  to  send  to  him  for  succour,  he  resolved  not  tc 
give  him  any.  The  enemy,  therefore,  made  a  dreadful  slaughter  of  the  Ro. 
mans  in  their  lines. — Liv.  lib.  v.  c.  8. 

f  The  year  of  Rome  357. 


CAMILLAS. 


261 


As  in  the  course  of  long  sieges  there  is  usually  some  con¬ 
versation  with  the  enemy,  it  happened  that  a  Roman  soldier 
formed  an  acquaintance  with  one  of  the  townsmen,  a  man 
versed  in  ancient  traditions,  and  supposed  to  be  more  than  or¬ 
dinarily  skilled  in  divination.  The  Roman,  perceiving  that 
he  expressed  great  satisfaction  at  the  story  of  the  lake,  and 
thereupon  laughed  at  the  siege,  told  him, — “  This  was  not 
the  only  wonder  the  times  had  produced,  but  other  prodigies 
still  stranger  than  this  had  happened  to  the  Romans;  which  he 
should  be  glad  to  communicate  to  him,  if  by  that  means  he 
could  provide  for  his  own  safety  in  the  midst  of  the  public 
ruin.”  The  man  readily  hearkening  to  the  proposal,  came  out 
to  him,  expecting  to  hear  some  secret,  and  the  Roman  con¬ 
tinued  the  discourse,  drawing  him  forward  by  degrees,  till 
they  were  at  some  distance  from  the  gates.  Then  he  snatched 
him  up  in  his  arms,  and  by  his  superior  strength  held  him, 
till,  with  the  assistance  of  several  soldiers  from  the  camp,  he 
was  secured  and  carried  before  the  generals.  The  man,  re¬ 
duced  to  this  necessity,  and  knowing  that  destiny  can  not  be 
avoided,  declared  the  secret  oracles  concerning  his  own  coun¬ 
try, — “  That  the  city  could  never  be  taken  till  the  waters  of 
the  Alban  lake,  which  had  now  forsook  their  bed,  and  found 
new  passages,  were  turned  back,  and  so  diverted  as  to  prevent 
their  mixing  with  the  sea.”’* 

The  senate,  informed  of  this  prediction,  and  deliberating 
about  it,  were  of  opinion  it  would  be  best  to  send  to  Delphi 
to  consult  the  oracle.  They  chose  for  this  purpose  three  per¬ 
sons  of  honour  and  distinction,  Licinius  Cossus,  Valerius  Po- 
titus  and  Fabius  Ambustus;  who,  having  had  a  prosperous 
voyage,  and  consulted  Apollo,  returned  with  this  among  other 
answers, — “  That  they  had  neglected  some  ceremonies  in  the 
Latin  leasts.”!  As  to  the  water  of  the  Alban  lake,  they  were 
ordered,  if  possible,  to  shut  it  up  in  its  ancient  bed;  or  if  that 
could  not  be  effected,  to  dig  canals  and  trenches  for  it,  till  it 
lost  itself  on  the  land.  Agreeably  to  this  direction,  the  priests 
were  employed  in  offering  sacrifices,  and  the  people  in  labour 
to  turn  the  course  of  the  water,  J 

In  the  tenth  year  of  the  siege,  the  senate  removed  the  other 
magistrates,  and  appointed  Camillus  dictator,  whomade  choice 
of  Cornelius  Scipio  for  his  general  of  horse.  In  the  first  place, 

*  1  he  prophecy,  according*  to  Livy,  (1.  v.  c.  15.)  was  this,  Veii  shill  never 
he  i liken,  till  all  the  water  is  run  out  of  the  lake  of  Alba. 

y  These  feasts  were  instituted  by  Tarquin  the  Proud.  The  Romans  pre¬ 
sided  in  them:  but  all  the  people  of  Latium  were  to  attend  them,  and  to  par 
take  of  a  bull  then  sacrificed  to  Jupiter  Latialis. 

t  This  wonderful  work  subsists  to  this  day,  and  the  waters  of  the  lake  A 1 
bano  run  through  it 


24 


262 


CAM1LLUS. 


he  made  vows  lo  the  gods,  if  they  favoured  him  with  putting 
a  glorious  period  to  the  war,  to  celebrate  the  great  Circensiari 
games  to  their  honour,* * * §  and  to  consecrate  the  temple  ot  the 
goddess,  whom  the  Romans  call  the  mother  matuta.  By  her 
secret  rites  we  may  suppose  this  last  to  be  the  goddess  Leuco- 
thea;  for  they  take  a  female  slave  into  the  inner  part  of  the 
temple, t  where  they  beat  her,  and  then  drive  her  out;  they 
carry  their  brother’s  children  in  their  arms  instead  of  their 
own;J  and  they  represent  in  the  ceremonies  of  the  sacrifice 
all  that  happened  to  the  nurses  of  Bacchus,  and  what  Ino  suf¬ 
fered  for  having  saved  the  son  of  Juno’s  rival. 

After  these  vows,  Camillus  penetrated  into  the  country  of 
the  Falisci,  and  in  a  great  battle  overthrew  them  and  their 
auxiliaries  the  Capenates.  Then  he  turned  to  the  siege  of 
Veii;  and  perceiving  it  would  be  both  difficult  and  dangerous 
to  endeavour  to  take  it  by  assault,  he  ordered  mines  to  be  dug, 
the  soil  about  the  city  being  easy  to  work,  and  admitting  of 
depth  enough  for  the  works  to  be  carried  on  unseen  by  the 
enemy.  As  this  succeeded  to  his  wish,  he  made  an  assault 
without,  to  call  the  enemy  to  the  walls;  and  in  the  mean  time, 
others  of  his  soldiers  made  their  way  through  the  mines,  and 
secretly  penetrated  to  Juno’s  temple  in  the  citadel.  This  was 
the  most  considerable  temple  in  the  city;  and  we  are  told,  that 
at  that  instant  the  Tuscan  general  happened  to  be  sacrificing, 
when  the  soothsayer,  upon  inspection  of  the  entrails,  cried 
out, — “The  gods  promise  victory  to  him  that  shall  finish  this 
sacrifice ;”§  the  Romans,  who  were  under  ground,  hearing 
what  he  said,  immediately  removed  the  pavement,  and  came 
out  with  loud  shouts  and  clashing  their  arms,  which  struck 
the  enemy  with  such  terror,  that  they  fled,  and  left  the  en¬ 
trails,  which  were  carried  to  Camillus.  But  perhaps  this  has 
more  of  the  air  of  fable  than  of  history. 

The  city  thus  taken  by  the  Romans  sword  in  hand,  while 
they  were  busy  in  plundering  it  and  carrying  off  its  immense 
riches,  Camillus,  beholding  from  the  citadel  what  was  done,  at 
first  burst  into  tears;  and  when  those  about  him  began  to  mag 

*  These  were  a  kind  of  tournament  in  the  great  circus. 

f  Leucothoe,  or  Ino,  was  jealous  of  one  of  her  female  slaves,  who  was  the 
favourite  of  her  husband  Athamas. 

tlno  was  a  very  unhappy  mother;  for  she  had  seen  her  son  Learchus 
slain  by  her  husband,  whereupon  she  threw  herself  into  the  sea  with  her 
other  son  Melicertes.  But  she  was  a  more  fortunate  aunt,  having*  preserved 
Bacchus,  the  son  of  her  sister  Semele. 

§  Words  spoken  by  persons  unconcerned  in  their  affairs,  and  upon  a  quite 
different  subject,  were  interpreted  by  the  heathens  as  good  or  bad  omens, 
if  they  happened  to  be  any  way  applicable  to  their  case.  And  they  took 
great  pains  to  fulfil  the  omen,  if  they  thought  it  fortunate;  as  well  as  t» 
evade  it,  if  it  appeared  unluckv. 


CAMILLUS. 


2b3 

miy  his  happiness,  he  lifted  up  his  hands  towards  heaven,  and 
uttered  this  prayer: —  “  Great  Jupiter,  and  ye  gods,  that  have 
the  inspection  of  our  good  and  evil  actions,  ye  know  that  the 
Romans,  not  without  just  cause,  but  in  their  own  defence,  and 
constrained  by  necessity,  have  made  war  against  this  city,  and 
their  enemies  its  unjust  inhabitants.  If  we  must  have  some 
misfortune  in  lieu  of  this  success,  I  entreat  that  it  may  fall, 
not  upon  Rome,  or  the  Roman  army,  but  upon  myself;  yet 
lay  not,  ye  gods,  a  heavy  hand  upon  me!”*  Having  pro¬ 
nounced  these  words,  he  turned  to  the  right,  as  the  manner 
of  the  Romans  is  after  prayer  and  supplication,  but  fell  in 
turning.  His  friends  that  were  by,  expressed  great  uneasi¬ 
ness  at  the  accident,  but  he  soon  recovered  himself  from  the 
fall,  and  told  them, — “It  was  only  a  small  inconvenience 
after  great  success,  agreeable  to  his  prayer.  ”t 

After  the  city  was  pillaged,  he  determined,  pursuant  to  his 
vow,  to  remove  this  statue  of  Juno  to  Rome.  The  workmen 
were  assembled  for  the  purpose,  and  he  offered  sacrifice  to  the 
goddess, — “Beseeching  her  to  accept  of  their  homage,  and 
graciously  to  take  up  her  abode  among  the  gods  of  Rome.” 
To  which  it  is  said  the  statue  softly  answered, — “'She  was 
willing  and  ready  to  do  it.”  But  Livy  says,  Camillus,  in 
offering  up  his  petition,  touched  the  image  of  the  goddess,  and 
entreated  her  to  go  with  them,  and  that  some  of  the  standers- 
by  answered, — “  She  consented,  and  would  willingly  follow 
them.”  Those  that  support  and  defend  the  miracle,  have  the 
fortune  of  Rome  on  their  side,  which  could  never  have  risen 
from  such  small  and  contemptible  beginnings  to  that  height  of 
glory  and  empire,  without  the  constant  assistance  of  some  god, 
who  favoured  them  with  many  considerable  tokens  of  his  pre¬ 
sence.  Several  miracles  of  a  similar  nature  are  also  alleged: 
as,  that  images  have  often  sweated  ;  that  they  have  been  heard 
to  groan:  and  that  sometimes  they  have  turned  from  their  vo 
taries,  and  shut  their  eyes.  Many  such  accounts  we  have  from 
our  ancients;  and  not  a  few  persons  of  our  own  times  have 
given  us  wonderful  relations,  not  unworthy  of  notice.  But 

*  Livy,  who  has  given  us  this  prayer,  has  not  qualified  it  with  that  mod’- 
fi cation  so  unworthy  of  Camillus,  tit  tuav'Tov  t\ct£t;*ro  kcuuh  'rtAtuTHra.i,  may  it  be 
with  as  little  detriment  as  possible  to  myself On  the  contrary,  he  says,  \ii  er' 
invidiam  lenire  suo  privato  incommodo ,  quam  minimo  publico  populi  Romani 
liceret.  Camillus  prayed,  that  if  this  success  must  have  an  equivalent  in  so:.»t 
ensuing  misfortune ,  that  misfortune  might  full  upon  himself  and  the  Roman 
people  escape  with  as  little  detriment  as  possible.  This  was  great  and  heiw 
Plutarch,  having  but  an  imperfect  knowledge  of  the  Roman  language,  pre 
bahly  mistook  the  sense. 

f  This  is  a  continuation  of  the  former  mistake.  Livy  tells  us,  it  was  coi* 
lectured  from  the  event,  tint  this  fall  of  Camillus  was  a  presage  of  his  c<  n 
dem nation  and  banishreert. 


264 


CAMILLUS. 


to  give  entire  credit  to  them,  or  altogether  to  disbelieve  them, 
is  equally  dangerous,  on  account  of  human  weakness.  We 
keep  not  always  within  the  boumds  of  reason,  nor  are  masters 
of  our  minds;  sometimes  we  fall  into  vain  superstition,  and 
sometimes  into  an  impious  neglect  of  all  religion.  It  is  best 
to  be  cautious,  and  to  avoid  extremes.* 

Whether  it  was  that  Camillus  was  elated  with  his  great  ex¬ 
ploit  in  taking  a  city  that  was  the  rival  of  Rome,  after  it  had 
been  besieged  ten  y^ars,  or  that  he  was  misled  by  his  flatter¬ 
ers,  he  took  upon  him  too  much  state  for  a  magistrate  subject 
to  the  laws  and  usages  of  his  country;  for  his  triumph  was 
conducted  with  excessive  pomp,  and  he  rode  through  Rome 
in  a  chariot  drawn  by  four  white  horses,  which  no  general 
ever  did  before  or  after  him.  Indeed,  this  sort  of  carriage  is 
esteemed  sacred,  and  is  appropriated  to  the  king  and  father  of 
the  gods.t  The  citizens,  therefore,  considered  this  unusual 
appearance  of  grandeur  as  an  insult  upon  them.  Besides,  they 
were  offended  at  his  opposing  the  law  by  which  the  city  was 
to  be  divided;  for  their  tribunes  had  proposed  that  the  senate 
and  people  should  be  divided  into  two  equal  parts;  one  part 
to  remain  at  Rome,  and  the  other,  as  the  lot  happened  to  fall, 
to  remove  to  the  conquered  city;  by  which  means  they  would 
not  only  have  more  room,  but,  by  being  in  possession  of  two 
considerable  cities,  be  better  able  to  defend  their  territories 
and  to  watch  over  their  prosperity.  The  people,  who  were 
very  numerous,  and  enriched  by  the  late  plunder,  constantly 
assembled  in  the  forum ,  and  in  a  tumultuous  manner  demanded 
to  have  it  put  to  the  vote.  But  the  senate  and  other  principal 
citizens  considered  this  proposal  of  the  tribunes,  not  so  much 
the  dividing  as  the  destroying  of  Rome,^  and  in  their  uneasi¬ 
ness  applied  to  Camillus.  Camillus  was  afraid  to  put  it  to  the 
trial,  and  therefore  invented  demurs  and  pretences  of  delay, 
to  prevent  the  bill’s  being  offered  to  the  people;  by  which  he 
incurred  their  displeasure. 

But  the  greatest  and  most  manifest  cause  of  their  hatred 
was,  his  behaviour  with  respect  to  the  tenths  of  the  spoils; 
and  if  the  resentment  of  the  people  was  not  in  this  case  alto¬ 
gether  just,  yet  it  had  some  show  of  reason.  It  seems  he  had 
made  a  vow,  as  he  marched  to  Veii,  that,  if  he  took  the  city, 
he  would  consecrate  the  tenths  to  Apollo.  But  when  the  city 

*  The  great  Mr.  Addison  seems  to  have  had  this  passage  of  Plutarch  in 
his  eye,  when  he  delivered  his  opinion  concerning  tlr*.  doctrine  of  witches. 

f  He  likewise  coloured  his  face  with  vermilion,  the  colour  with  which  the 
statues  of  the  gods  were  commonly  painted. 

t  They  feared,  that  two  such  cities,  would,  by  degrees,  become  two  dif 
ferent  states,  which,  after  a  destructive  war  with  each  other,  would  a* 
length  fall  a  prey  to  their  common  enemies. 


CAM1LLUS. 


265 


was  taken,  and  came  to  be  pillaged,  he  was  either  unwilling  to 
interrupt  his  men,  or  in  the  hurry  had  forgot  his  vow,  and  so 
gave  up  the  whole  plunder  to  them.  After  he  had  resigned 
His  dictatorship,  he  laid  the  case  before  the  senate;  and  the 
soothsayers  declared,  that  the  sacrifices  announced  the  anger 
of  the  gods,  which  ought  to  oe  appeased  by  offerings  expressive 
of  their  gratitude  for  the  favours  they  had  received.  The  se¬ 
nate  then  made  a  decree,  that  the  plunder  should  remain  with 
the  soldiers  (for  they  knew  not  how  to  manage  it  otherwise); 
but  that  each  should  produce  upon  oath,  the  tenth  of  the  value 
of  what  he  had  got.  This  wTas  a  great  hardship  upon  the  sol¬ 
diers;  and  those  poor  fellows  could  not  without  force  be 
brought  to  refund  so  large  a  portion  of  the  fruit  of  their  la¬ 
bours,  and  to  make  good  not  only  what  they  had  hardly  earn¬ 
ed,  but  now  actually  spent.  Camillus,  distressed  with  their 
complaints,  for  want  of  a  better  excuse,  made  use  of  a  very 
absurd  apology,  by  acknowledging  he  had  forgotten  his  vow. 
This  they  greatly  resented,  that  having  then  vowed  the  tenths 
of  the  enemy’s  goods,  he  should  now  exact  the  tenths  of  the 
citizens’.  However,  they  all  produced  their  proportion;  and 
it  was  resolved,  that  a  vase  of  massy  gold  should  be  made  and 
sent  to  Delphi.  But  as  there  was  a  scarcity  of  gold  in  the 
city,  while  the  magistrates  were  considering  how  to  procure 
it,  the  Roman  matrons  met,  and  having  consulted  among  them 
selves,  gave  up  their  golden  ornaments,  which  weighed  eight 
talents,  as  an  offering  to  the  god.  And  the  senate,  in  honour 
of  their  piety,  decreed  that  they  should  have  funeral  orations 
as  well  as  the  men,  which  had  not  been  the  custom  before.  * 
They  then  sent  three  of  the  chief  of  the  nobility  ambassadors, 
in  a  large  ship  well  manned,  and  fitted  out  in  a  manner  be¬ 
coming  so  solemn  an  occasion. 

In  this  voyage  they  were  equally  endangered  by  a  storm 
and  a  calm,  but  escaped  beyond  all  expectation,  when  on  the 
brink  of  destruction.  For  the  wind  slackening  near  the  Aeo¬ 
lian  islands,  the  galleys  of  the  Lipareans  gave  them  chase  as 
pirates.  Upon  their  stretching  out  their  hands  for  mercy,  the 
Lipareans  used  no  violence  to  their  persons,  but  towed  the 
ship  into  harbour,  and  there  exposed  both  them  and  their 
goods  to  sale,  having  first  adjudged  them  to  be  lawful  prize. 
With  much  difficulty,  however,  they  were  prevailed  upon  to 
release  them,  out  of  regard  to  the  merit  and  authority  of  Ti- 

*  The  matrons  had  the  value  of  the  gold  paid  them;  and  it  was  not  on 
this  occasion,  but  afterwards,  when  they  contributed  their  golden  ornaments 
to  make  up  the  sum  demanded  by  the  Gauls,  that  funeral  orations  were 
granted  them.  The  privilege  they  were  now  favoured  with,  was  leave  to 
ride  in  chariots  at  the  public  games  and  sacrifices,  and  in  open  carriages,  of 
a  less  honourable  sort,  on  other  occasions,  in  the  streets. 

Vol.  I  - 2  N  24* 


266 


CAMILLUS. 


mesitheus,  the  chief  magistrate  of  the  place,  who,  moreover, 
conveyed  them  with  his  own  vessels,  and  assisted  in  dedicat 
ing  the  gift.  For  this,  suitable  honours  were  paid  him  at 
Rome. 

And  now  the  tribunes  oj  the  people  attempted  to  bring  the  law 
for  removing  part  of  the  citizens  to  Veii  once  more  upon  the 
carpet;  but  the  war  with  the  Falisci  very  seasonably  interven¬ 
ing,  put  the  management  of  the  elections  in  the  hands  of  the 
patricians,  and  they  nominated  Camillus  a  military  tribune ,*  to  ■ 
gether  with  five  others,  as  affairs  then  required  a  general  of 
considerable  dignity,  reputation,  and  experience.  When  the 
people  had  confirmed  this  nomination,  Camillus  marched  his 
forces  into  the  country  of  the  Falisci,  and  laid  siege  to  Falerii, 
a  city  well  fortified  and  provided  in  all  respects  for  the  war. 
He  was  sensible  it  was  like  to  be  no  easy  affair,  nor  soon  to  be 
despatched,  and  this  was  one  reason  for  his  engaging  in  it;  for 
he  was  desirous  to  keep  the  citizens  employed  abroad,  that  they 
might  not  have  leisure  to  sit  down  at  home,  and  raise  tumults 
and  seditions.  This  was  indeed  a  remedy  which  the  Romans 
always  had  recourse  to,  like  good  physicians,  to  expel  danger¬ 
ous  humours  from  the  body  politic. 

The  Falerians,  trusting  to  the  fortifications  with  which  they 
were  surrounded,  made  so  little  account  of  the  siege,  that  the 
inhabitants,  except  those  who  guarded  the  walls,  walked  the 
streets  in  their  common  habits.  The  boys  too  went  to  school, 
and  the  master  took  them  out  to  walk  and  exercise  about  the 
walls;  for  the  Falerians,  like  the  Greeks,  chose  to  have  their 
children  bred  at  one  public  school,  that  they  might  betimes  be 
accustomed  to  the  same  discipline,  and  form  themselves  to 
friendship  and  society. 

This  schoolmaster,  then,  designing  to  betray  the  Falerians 
by  means  of  their  children,  took  them  every  day  out  of  the 
city  to  exercise,  keeping  pretty  close  to  the  walls  at  first,  and 
when  their  exercise  was  over,  led  them  in  again.  By  degrees 
he  took  them  out  farther,  accustoming  them  to  divert  them¬ 
selves  freely,  as  if  they  had  nothing  to  fear.  At  last,  having 
got  them  all  together,  he  brought  them  to  the  Roman  advanced 
guard,  and  delivered  them  up  to  be  carried  to  Camillus.  When 
he  came  into  his  presence,  he  said, — 66  He  was  the  schoolmas¬ 
ter  of  Falerii,  but  preferring  his  favour  to  the  obligations  of 
duty,  he  came  to  deliver  up  those  children  to  him,  and  in  them 
the  whole  city.”  This  action  appeared  very  shocking  to  Ca- 
rnillus,  anrl  he  said  to  those  that  were  by, — u  War  (at  best) 
s  a  savage  thing,  and  wades  through  a  sea  of  violence  and  in- 

*  The  year  of  Rome  361.  Canullus  was  then  military  tribune  the  third 
f/me. 


CAM1LLUS. 


26? 


justice;  yit  even  war  itself  has  its  laws,  which  men  of  honour 
will  not  depart  from;  nor  do  they  so  pursue  victory,  as  to  avail 
themselves  of  acts  of  villany  and  baseness;  for  a  great  general 
should  rely  only  on  his  own  virtue,  and  not  upon  the  treach¬ 
ery  of  others.”  Then  he  ordered  the  lictors  to  tear  oil  the 
wretch’s  clothes,  to  tie  his  hands  behind  him,  and  to  furnish 
the  boys  with  rods  and  scourges,  to  punish  the  traitor,  and 
whip  him  into  the  city.  By  this  time  the  Falerians  had  disco¬ 
vered  the  schoolmaster’s  treason;  the  city,  as  might  be  expect¬ 
ed,  was  full  of  lamentations  for  so  great  a  loss,  and  the  princi¬ 
pal  inhabitants,  both  men  and  women,  crowded  about  the  wall 
and  the  gate  like  persons  distracted.  In  the  midst  of  this  dis¬ 
order  they  espied  the  boys  whipping  on  their  master,  naked 
and  bound;  and  calling  Camillus  “  their  god,  their  deliverer, 
their  father.”  Not  only  the  parents  of  tfiose  children,  but  al! 
the  citizens  in  general,  were  struck  with  admiration  at  the 
spectacle,  and  conceived  such  an  affection  for  the  justice  of 
Camillus,  that  they  immediately  assembled  in  council,  and 
sent  deputies  to  surrender  to  him  both  themselves  and  their 
city. 

Camillus  sent  them  to  Rome;  and  when  they  were  introdu 
ced  to  the  senate,  they  said: — “The  Romans,  in  preferring 
justice  to  conauest,  have  taught  us  to  be  satisfied  with  submis¬ 
sion  instead  oi  liberty.  At  the  same  time,  we  declare  we  do 
not  think  ourselves  so  much  beneath  you  in  strength,  as  infe¬ 
rior  in  virtue.”  The  senate  referred  the  disquisition  and  set¬ 
tling  of  the  articles  of  peace  to  Camillus,  who  contented  him¬ 
self  with  taking  a  sum  of  money  of  the  Falerians;  and  having 
entered  into  alliance  with  the  whole  nation  of  the  Falisci,  re¬ 
turned  to  Rome. 

But  the  soldiers,  who  expected  to  have  had  the  plundering  of 
Falerii,  when  they  came  back  empty-handed,  accused  Camillus 
to  their  fellow-citizens  as  an  enemy  to  the  commons ,  and  one 
that  maliciously  opposed  the  interests  of  the  poor.  And  when 
the  tribunes  again  proposed  the  law  for  transplanting  part  of 
the  citizens  to  Veii,*  and  summoned  the  people  to  give  their 
votes,  Camillus  spoke  very  freely,  or  rather  with  much  asperi¬ 
ty  against  it,  appearing  remarkably  violent  in  his  opposition  to 
the  people,  who  therefore  lost  their  bill,  but  harboured  a  strong 
resentment  against  Camillus.  Even  the  misfortune  he  had  in 
his  family,  of  losing  one  of  his  sons,  did  not  in  the  least  miti- 

*  The  patricians  earned  it  against  the  bill  only  by  a  majority  of  one  tribe. 
And  now  they  were  so  well  pleased  with  the  people,  that  the  very  next  morn¬ 
ing  a  decree  was  passed,  assigning  six  acres  of  the  lands  of  Veii,  not  only 
to  every  father  of  a  family,  but  to  every  single  person  of  free  condition.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  people  delighted  with  this  libe?’alitv,  allowed  the  elect 
-ng  of  consuls,  instead  of  military  tribunes. 


268 


CAM1LLUS. 


gate  their  rage,  though,  as  a  man  of  great  goocmess  and  ten¬ 
derness  of  heart,  he  was  inconsolable  for  his  loss,  and  shut 
himself  up  at  home,  a  close  mourner  with  the  women,  at  the 
same  time  that  they  were  lodging  an  impeachment  against  him. 

His  accuser  was  Lucius  Apuleius,  who  brought  against  him 
a  charge  of  fraud  with  respect  to  the  Tuscan  spoils;  and  it  was 
alleged  that  certain  brass  gates,  a  part  of  those  spoils,  were 
found  with  him.  The  people  were  so  much  exasperated,  that 
it  was  plain  they  would  lay  hold  on  any  pretext  to  condemn 
him.  He,  therefore,  assembled  his  friends,  his  colleagues, 
and  fellow  soldiers,  a  great  number  in  all,  and  begged  of  them 
not  to  suffer  him  to  be  crushed  by  false  and  unjust  accusations, 
and  exposed  to  the  scorn  of  his  enemies.  When  they  had  co.n 
suited  together,  and  fully  considered  the  affair,  the  answer 
they  gave  was,  that  they  did  not  believe  it  in  their  power  to 
prevent  the  sentence,  but  they  would  willingly  assist  him  to 
pay  the  fine  that  might  belaid  upon  him.  He  could  not,  how¬ 
ever,  bear  the  thoughts  of  so  great  an  indignity,  and  giving 
way  to  his  resentment,  determined  to  quit  the  city  as  a  vol¬ 
untary  exile.  Having  taken  leave  of  his  wife  and  children, 
he  went  in  silence  from  his  house  to  the  gate  of  the  city.* 
There  he  made  a  stand,  and  turning  about,  stretched  out  his 
hands  towards  the  Capitol,  and  prayed  to  the  gods, — “  That 
if  he  was  driven  out  without  any  fault  of  his  own,  and  merely 
by  the  violence  or  envy  of  the  people,  the  Romans  might 
quickly  repent  it,  and  express  to  all  the  world  their  want  of 
Camillus,  and  their  regret  for  his  absence.” 

When  he  had  thus,  like  Achilles,  uttered  his  imprecations 
against  his  countrymen,  he  departed;  and,  leaving  his  cause 
undefended,  he  was  condemned  to  pay  a  fine  of  fifteen  thou¬ 
sand  ases ;  which,  reduced  to  Grecian  money,  is  one  thousand 
five  hundred  drachmae;  for  the  as  is  a  small  coin  that  is  the 
tenth  part  of  a  piece  of  silver,  which  for  that  reason  is  called 
denarius ,  and  answers  to  our  drachma .  There  is  not  a  man  in 
Rome  who  does  not  believe  that  these  imprecations  of  Camil¬ 
lus  had  .heir  effect;  though  the  punishment  of  his  countrymen 
for  their  injustice  proved  nowise  agreeable  to  him,  but  on  the 
contrary,  matter  of  grief.  Yet  how  great,  how  memorable 
was  that  punishment!  How  remarkably  did  vengeance  pursue 
the  Romans!  What  danger,  destruction,  and  disgrace  did  those 
times  bring  upon  the  city!  Whether  it  was  the  work  of  for¬ 
tune,  or  whether  it  is  the  office  of  some  deity,  to  see  that  vir¬ 
tue  sha'l  not  be  oppressed  by  the  ungrateful  with  impunity.! 

*  This  was  four  years  after  the  taking*  of  Falerii. 

f  It  was  the  goddess  Nemesis  whom  the  heathens  believed  to  have  the 
office  of  punishing  evil  actions  in  this  world,  particularly  pride  and  ingrati¬ 
tude. 


CAMILLUS 


269 


The  first  token  ol  the  approaching  calamities,  was  the  death 
vi  Julius  the  Censor .* * * §  For  the  Romans  have  a  particular  vene¬ 
ration  for  the  censor,  and  look  upon  his  office  as  sacred.  A 
second  token  happened  a  little  before  the  exile  of  Camillus. 
Maicus  Ceditius,  a  man  of  no  illustrious  family  indeed,  nor  of 
senatorial  rank,  but  a  person  of  great  probity  and  virtue,  in¬ 
formed  the  military  tribunes  of  a  matter  which  deserved  great 
attention.  As  he  was  going  the  night  before  along  what  is 
called  the  New  Road,  he  said  he  was  addressed  in  a  loud 
voice.  Upon  turning  about  he  saw  nobody,  but  heard  these 
words  in  an  accent  more  than  human: — “Go,  Marcus  Ceditius, 
and  early  in  the  morning  acquaint  the  magistrates,  that  they 
must  shortly  expect  the  Gauls.  ”  But  the  tribunes  made  a  jest 
of  the  information;  and  soon  after  followed  the  disgrace  of 
Camillas. 

The  Gauls  are  of  Celtic  origin, t  and  are  said  to  have  left 
their  country,  which  was  too  small  to  maintain  their  vast  num¬ 
bers,  to  go  in  search  of  another.  These  emigrants  consisted 
of  many  thousands  of  young  and  able  warriors,  with  a  still 
greater  number  of  women  and  children.  Part  of  them  took 
their  route  towards  the  northern  ocean,  crossed  the  Rhiphaean 
mountains,  and  settled  in  the  extreme  parts  of  Europe;  and 
part  established  themselves  for  a  long  time  between  the  Py¬ 
renees  and  the  Alps,  near  the  Senones  and  Celtorians.  J  But 
happening  to  taste  of  wine,  which  was  then  for  the  first  time 
brought  out  of  Italy,  they  so  much  admired  the  liquor,  and 
were  so  enchanted  with  this  new  pleasure,  that  they  snatched 
up  their  arms,  and  taking  their  parents  along  with  them, 
marched  to  the  Alps,§  to  seek  that  country  which  produced 

*  The  Greek  text,  a*  it  now  stands,  instead  of  the  censor  Julius,  has  the 
month  of  July;  but  that  has  been  owing'  to  the  error  of  some  ignorant  tran¬ 
scriber.  Upon  the  death  of  Caius  Julius  the  censor,  Marcus  Cornelius  was 
appointed  to  succeed  him;  but  as  the  censorship  of  the  latter  proved  unfortu¬ 
nate,  ever  after,  when  a  censor  happened  to  die  in  his  office,  they  not  only 
forbore  naming  another  in  his  place,  but  obliged  his  colleague  to  quit  his 
dignity. 

|  The  ancients  called  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  west  and  north,  as  far  as 
Scythia,  by  the  common  name  of  Celtse. 

t  The  country  of  the  Senones  contained  Sens,  Auxerre,  and  Troyes,  as 
far  up  as  Paris.  Who  the  Celtorii  were  is  not  known;  probably  the  word 
is  corrupted. 

§  Livy  tells  us,  Italy  was  known  to  the  Gauls  two  hundred  years  before, 
though  he  does  indeed  mention  the  story  of  Aruns.  Then  he  goes  on  to 
inform  us,  that  the  migration  of  the  Gauls  into  Italy  and  other  countries, 
was  occasioned  by  their  numbers  being  too  large  for  their  old  settlements, 
and  that  the  two  brothers  Beliovesus  and  Sigovesus  casting  lots  to  determine 
which  wav  they  should  steer  their  course;  Italy  fell  to  Beliovesus,  and  Ger. 
many  to  Sigovesus. 


270 


CAMfLLUS. 


such  excellent  fruit,  and,  in  comparison  of  which,  they  con 
sidered  all  others  as  barren  and  ungenial. 

The  man  that  first  carried  wine  amongst  them,  and  excitec. 
them  to  invade  Italy,  is  said  to  have  been  Aruns,  a  Tuscan,  a 
man  of  some  distinction,  and  not  naturally  disposed  to  mis¬ 
chief,  but  led  to  it  by  his  misfortunes.  He  was  guardian  to 
an  orphan  named  Lucumo,*  of  the  greatest  fortune  in  the 
country,  and  most  celebrated  for  beauty.  Aruns  brought  him 
up  from  a  boy,  and,  when  grown  up,  he  still  continued  at  his 
house,  upon  a  pretence  of  enjoying  his  conversation.  Mean¬ 
while  he  had  corrupted  his  guardian’s  wife,  or  she  had  cor¬ 
rupted  him,  and  for  a  long  time  the  criminal  commerce  was 
carried  on  undiscovered.  At  length  their  passion  becoming 
so  violent,  that  they  could  neither  restrain  nor  conceal  it,  the 
young  man  carried  her  off,  and  attempted  to  keep  her  openly. 
The  husband  endeavoured  to  find  his  redress  at  law,  but  was 
disappointed  by  the  superior  interest  and  wealth  of  Lucumo. 
He  therefore  quitted  his  own  country,  and  having  heard  ol 
the  enterprising  spirit  of  the  Gauls,  went  to  them,  and  con¬ 
ducted  their  armies  into  Italy. 

In  their  first  expedition  they  soon  possessed  themselves  of 
that  country  which  stretches  out  from  the  Alps  to  both  seas. 
That  this  of  old  belonged  to  the  Tuscans,  the  names  them¬ 
selves  are  a  proof;  for  the  sea  which  lies  to  the  north  is  called 
the  Adriatic,  from  a  Tuscan  city  named  Adria,  and  that  or. 
the  other  side  to  the  south  is  called  the  Tuscan  sea.  All  tha‘ 
country  is  well  planted  with  trees,  has  excellent  pastures,  and 
is  well  watered  with  rivers.  It  contained  eighteen  considera¬ 
ble  cities,  whose  manufactures  and  trade  procured  them  the 
gratifications  of  luxury.  The  Gauls  expelled  the  Tuscans, 
and  made  themselves  masters  of  these  cities ;  but  this  was  done 
long  before. 

The  Gauls  were  now  besieging  Clusium,  a  city  of  Tuscany. 
The  Clusians  applied  to  the  Romans,  entreating  them  to  send 
ambassadors  and  letters  to  the  barbarians.  Accordingly  they 
sent  three  illustrious  persons  of  the  Fabian  family,  who  had 
borne  the  highest  employments  in  the  state.  The  Gauls  re¬ 
ceived  them  courteously  on  account  of  the  name  of  Rome;  and 
putting  a  stop  to  their  operations  against  the  town,  came  to  a 
conference.  But  when  they  were  asked  what  injury  they  had 
received  from  the  Clusians,  that  they  came  against  their  city, 
Brennus  king  of  the  Gauls  smiled,  and  said, — “The  injury 
the  Clusians  do  us,  is  their  keeping  to  themselves  a  large  tract 


*  Ijucunvt  was  not  the  name  but  the  title  of*  the  young  man.  He  was 
hml  of  a  Lucumony.  Iletruria  was  divided  into  principalities  called  Lu 
tjiiruonies. 


CAMIJXUS. 


271 


>f  ground,  when  they  can  only  cultivate  a  small  one,  and  re* 
fusing  to  give  up  a  part  of  it  to  us,  who  are  strangers,  numer¬ 
ous  and  poor.  In  the  same  manner  you  Romans  were  injured 
formerly  by  the  Albans,  the  Fidenates,  and  the  Ardeates, 
and  lately  by  the  people  of  Veii  and  Capenae,  and  the  greatest 
part  of  the  Falisci  and  the  Volsci.  Upon  these  you  make 
war:  if  they  refuse  to  share  with  you  their  goods,  you  enslave 
their  persons,  lay  waste  their  country,  and  demolish  their 
cities.  Nor  are  your  proceedings  dishonourable  or  unjust; 
for  you  follow  the  most  ancient  of  laws,  which  directs  the 
weak  to  obey  the  strong,  from  the  Creator  even  to  the  irra 
tional  part  of  the  creation,  that  are  taught  by  nature  to  make 
use  of  the  advantage  their  strength  affords  them  against  the 
feeble.  Cease  then  to  express  your  compassion  for  the  Clu- 
sians,  lest  you  teach  the  Gauls  in  their  turn  to  commiserate 
those  that  have  been  oppressed  by  the  Romans.” 

By  this  answer  the  Romans  clearly  perceived  that  Brennus 
would  come  to  no  terms;  and  therefore  they  went  into  Clu- 
sium,  where  they  encouraged  and  animated  the  inhabitants  to 
a  sally  against  the  barbarians,  either  to  make  trial  of  the 
strength  of  the  Clusians,  or  to  show  their  own.  The  Clusians 
made  the  sally,  and  a  sharp  conflict  ensued  near  the  walls, 
when  Quintus  Ambustus,  one  of  the  Fabii,  spurred  his  horse 
against  a  Gaul  of  extraordinary  size  and  figure,  who  had  ad¬ 
vanced  a  good  way  before  the  ranks.  At  first  he  was  not 
known,  because  the  encounter  was  hot,  and  his  armour  daz¬ 
zled  the  eyes  of  the  beholders;  but  when  he  had  overcome  and 
killed  the  Gaul,  and  came  to  despoil  him  of  his  arms,  Brennus 
knew  him  and  called  the  gods  to  witness, — 66  That  against  all 
the  laws  and  usages  of  mankind  which  were  esteemed  the 
most  sacred  and  inviolable,  Ambustus  came  as  an  ambassador, 
but  acted  as  an  enem}T.”  He  drew  off  his  men  directly,  and 
bidding  the  Clusians  farewell  led  his  army  towards  Rome. 
But  that  he  might  not  seem  to  rejoice  that  such  an  affront  was 
offered,  or  to  have  wanted  a  pretext  for  hostilities,  he  sent  to 
demand  the  offender,  in  order  to  punish  him,  and  in  the  mean 
time  advanced  but  slowly. 

The  herald  being  arrived,  the  senate  was  assembled,  and 
many  spoke  against  the  Fabii;  particularly  the  priests,  called 
fecialcs ,  represented  the  action  as  an  offence  against  religion, 
and  adjured  the  senate  to  lay  the  whole  guilt  and  the  expiation 
of  it  upon  the  person  who  alone  was  to  blame,  and  so  to  avert 
the  wrath  of  heaven  from  the  rest  of  the  Romans.  These  fe- 
cinhs  were  appointed  by  Numa,  the  mildest  and  justest  of 
kings,  conservators  of  peace,  as  well  as  judges  to  give  sanction 
to  the  just  causes  of  war.  The  senate  referred  the  matter  to 
the  people,  and  the  priests,  accused  Fal  ius  with  some  ardoui 


272 


CAMLLL.U&. 


before  them;  but  such  was  the  disregard  they  expressed  fo 
their  persons,  and  such  their  contempt  of  religion,  that  thej 
constituted  that  very  Fabius  and  his  brethren  military  tri 
bunes.* 

As  soon  as  the  Gauls  were  informed  of  this,  they  were 
greatly  enraged,  and  would  no  longer  delay  their  march,  but 
hastened  forward  with  the  utmost  celerity.  Their  prodigious 
numbers,  their  glittering  arms,  their  fury  and  impetuosity, 
struck  terror  wherever  they  came;  people  gave  up  their  lands 
for  lost,  not  doubting  but  the  cities  would  soon  follow.  How¬ 
ever,  what  was  beyond  all  expectation,  they  injured  no  man’s 
property;  they  neither  pillaged  the  fields,  nor  insulted  the 
cities;  and  as  they  passed  by,  they  cried  out, — “ They  were 
going  to  Rome,  they  were  at  war  with  the  Romans  only,  and 
considered  all  others  as  their  friends.” 

While  the  barbarians  were  going  forward  in  this  impetuous 
manner,  the  tribunes  led  out  their  forces  to  battle,  in  number 
not  inferior!  (for  they  consisted  of  forty  thousand  foot,)  but 
the  greatest  part  undisciplined,  and  such  as  had  never  handled 
a  weapon  before.  Besides,  they  paid  no  attention  to  religion, 
having  neither  propitiated  the  gods  by  sacrifice,  nor  consulted 
the  soothsayers,  as  was  their  duty  in  time  of  danger,  and  be¬ 
fore  an  engagement.  Another  thing,  which  occasioned  no 
small  confusion,  was,  the  number  of  persons  joined  in  the 
command;  whereas  before,  they  had  often  appointed  for  wars 
of  less  consideration  a  single  leader,  whom  they  call  dictator, 
sensible  of  how  great  consequence  it  is  to  good  order  and  suc¬ 
cess,  at  a  dangerous  crisis,  to  be  actuated  as  it  were  with  one 
soul,  and  to  have  the  absolute  command  invested  in  one  per¬ 
son.  Their  ungrateful  treatment  of  Camillus,  too,  was  not  the 
least  unhappy  circumstance;  as  it  now  appeared  dangerous 
for  the  generals  to  use  their  authority  without  some  flattering 
indulgence  to  the  people. 

In  this  condition  they  marched  out  of  the  city,  and  encamp¬ 
ed  about  eleven  miles  from  it,  on  the  banks  cf  the  river  Allia, 
not  far  from  its  confluence  with  the  Tyber.  There  the  bar¬ 
barians  came  upon  them,  and  as  the  Romans  engaged  in  a  dis¬ 
orderly  manner,  they  were  shamefully  beaten  and  put  to  flight. 
Their  left  wing  was  soon  pushed  into  the  river,  and  there  de¬ 
stroyed.  The  right  wing,  which  quitted  the  field  to  avoid  the 
charge,  and  gained  the  hills,  did  not  suffer  so  much;  many  of 
them  escaping  to  Rome.  The  rest  that  survived  the  carnage, 

*  The  year  of  Rome  366;  or,  according-  to  some  chronolog*ers,  365. 

■(-They  were  inferior  in  number;  for  the  Gauls  were  seventy  thousand;  and 
therefore  the  Romans,  when  they  came  to  action,  were  oblig-ed  to  extend 
their  wing-s  so  as  to  make  their  centre  very  thin,  which  was  one  reason  oi 
their  being-  sco.i  broken. 


CAMILLUS. 


273 


when  the  enemy  were  satiated  with  blood,  stole  by  night  to 
Veii,  concluding  that  Rome  was  lost,  and  its  inhabitants  pul 
to  the  sword. 

This  battle  was  fought  when  the  moon  was  at  full,  about  (he 
summer  solstice,  the  very  same  day  that  the  slaughter  of  the 
Fabii  happened  long  before,*  when  three  hundred  of  them 
were  cut  off  by  the  Tuscans.  The  second  misfortune,  how¬ 
ever,  so  much  effaced  the  memory  of  the  first,  that  the  day  is 
still  called  the  day  of  Allia,  from  the  river  of  that  name. 

As  to  the  point,  whether  there  be  any  lucky  or  unlucky 
days,t  and  whether  Heraclitus  was  right  in  blaming  Hesiod 
for  distinguishing  them  into  fortunate  and  unfortunate,  as  not 
knowing  that  the  nature  of  all  days  is  the  same,  we  have  con¬ 
sidered  it  in  another  place.  But  on  this  occasion,  perhaps,  it 
may  not  be  amiss  to  mention  a  few  examples.  The  Boeotians, 
on  the  fifth  of  the  month  which  they  call  Hippodromius ,  and 
the  Athenians  Hecatombseon  (July),  gained  two  signal  victo¬ 
ries,  both  of  which  restored  liberty  to  Greece;  the  one  at 
Leuctra;  the  other  at  Geraestus,  above  two  hundred  years  be¬ 
fore,!  when  they  defeated  Lattamyas  and  the  Thessalians. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  Persians  were  beaten  by  the  Greeks  on 
the  sixth  of  Boedromion  (September)  at  Marathon,  on  the  third 
at  Plataea,  as  also  Mycale,  and  on  the  twenty-sixth  at  Arbeli 
About  the  full  moon  of  the  same  month,  the  Athenians,  under 
the  conduct  of  Chabrias,  were  victorious  in  the  sea-fight  near 
Naxos,  and  on  the  twentieth  they  gained  the  victory  of  Sala- 
mis,  as  we  have  mentioned  in  the  treatise  concerning  days. 
The  month  Thargelion  (May)  was  also  remarkably  unfortu¬ 
nate  to  the  barbarians;  for  in  that  month  Alexander  defeated 
the  king  of  Persia’s  generals  near  the  Granicus;  and  the  Car¬ 
thaginians  were  beaten  by  Timoleon  in  Sicily  on  the  twenty- 
fourth  of  the  same;  a  day  still  more  remarkable  (according  to 
Euphorus,  Callisthenes,  Demaster,  and  Phylarchus)  for  the 
taking  of  Troy.  On  the  contrary,  the  month  Metagitnion 
(August),  which  the  Boeotians,  call  Panemus ,  was  very  unlucky 
to  the  Greeks;  for  on  the  seventh  they  were  beaten  by  Anti- 

w  The  sixteenth  of  July. 

j*  The  ancients  deemed  some  days  lucky,  and  others  unlucky,  either  from 
some  occult  power  which  they  supposed  to  be  in  numbers,  or  from  the  na¬ 
ture  of  the  deities  who  presided  over  them,  or  else  from  observation  of  for¬ 
tunate  or  unfortunate  events  having  often  happened  on  particular  days. 

t  The  Thessalians,  under  the  command  of  Lattamyas,  were  beaten  by  the 
Boeotians  not  long  before  the  battle  of  Thermopylae,  and  little  more  than  one 
hundred  years  before  the  battle  of  Leuctra.  There  is  also  an  error  here  in 
the  name  of  the  place,  probably  introduced  by  some  blundering  transcriber 
(Tor  Plutarch  must  have  been  well  acquainted  with  the  names  of  places  in 
lloeotia.)  Instead  of  Geraestus,  we  should  read  Ceressus;  the  fr  rmer  was  a 
promontory  ;n  Euboea,  the  latter  was  a  Tort  in  Boeotia. 

Vot.  I.—  -2  0  2.5 


274 


CAMILLUS. 


pater  in  the  battle  of  Cranon  and  utterly  ruined,  and  before 
that  they  were  defeated  by  Philip  at  Chaeronea.  And  on  that 
same  day  and  month  and  year,  the  troops,  which  under  Ar- 
chidamus,  made  a  descent  upon  Italy,  were  cut  to  pieces  by 
the  barbarians.  The  Carthaginians  have  set  a  mark  upon  the 
twenty-second  of  that  month,  as  a  day  that  has  always  brought 
upon  them  the  greatest  of  calamities.  At  the  same  time  1  am 
not  ignorant,  that  about  the  time  of  the  celebration  of  the  mys¬ 
teries ?,  Thebes  was  demolished  by  Alexander;  and  after  that, 
on  the  same  twentieth  of  Boedromion  (September),  a  day  sacred 
to  the  solemnities  of  Bacchus,  the  Athenians  were  obliged  to 
receive  a  Macedonian  garrison.  On  one  and  the  same  day, 
the  Romans,  under  the  command  of  Csepio,  were  stripped  of 
their  camp  by  the  Cimbri,  and  afterwards  under  Lucullus  con¬ 
quered  Tigranes  and  the  Armenians.  King  Attalus  and 
Pompey  the  Great  both  died  on  their  birth-days.  And  I  could 
give  account  of  many  others,  who,  on  the  same  day,  at  differ¬ 
ent  periods,  have  experienced  both  good  and  bad  fortune.  Be 
that  as  it  may,  the  Romans  marked  the  day  of  their  defeat  at 
Allia  as  unfortunate;  and  as  superstitious  fears  generally  in¬ 
crease  upon  a  misfortune-,  they  not  only  distinguished  that  as 
such,  but  the  two  next  that  follow  it  in  every  month  through¬ 
out  the  year. 

vlf,  after  so  decisive  abattle,  the  Gauls  had  immediately  pur 
sued- the  fugitives,  there  would  have  been  nothing  to  hinder 
the  entire  destruction  of  Rome,  and  all  that  remained  in  it; 
with  such  terror., was  the  city  struck  at  the  return  of  those  that 
escaped  from  the  battle,  and  so  filled  with  confusion  and  dis¬ 
traction!  But  the  Gauls,  not  imagining  the  victory  to  be  so 
great  as  it  was,  in  the  excess  of  their  joy  indulged  themselves 
in  good  cheer;  and.  shared  the  plunder  of  the  camp;  by  which 
means  numbers  that  were  for  leaving  the  city  had  leisure  to 
escape,  and  those  that  remained  had  time  to  recollect  them¬ 
selves,  and  prepare  for  their  defeftc6;Tor,  quitting  the  rest  of 
the  city  they  retired  to  the  Capitol  which  they  fortified  with 
strong  ramparts^  and  provided  well  with  arms.  But  their  first 
care  was  of  their  holy  things,  most  of  which  they  conveyed 
into  the  Capitol.  As  for  the  sacred  fire,  W\e  vestal  virgins  took 
it  upf  together  with  other  holy  relics,' and  fled  awayfr  with  it: 
though  some  will  have  it,  that  they  have  not  the  charge  of  any 
thing  but  thatJ  ever-living  fire,/ which  Numa  appointed,  to  be 
worshipped  as  the  principled  all  things.  -  It  is  indeed  the  mos' 
active  thing  in  nature;  and  all  generation  either  is  motion,  oi 
at  least  with"  motion.  Other  parts  > of,  matter,  when  the  hea' 
fails,- lie  /sluggish  and  dead,  and  crave,  the /force  of  fire  as  an. 
Informing  soul;1  and  when/ that  comes,' they,  acquire  some  ac. 
live  or  passive  quality,  lienee  it  was  that  Numa,  a  man  cu  ^ 


CAMUJL  US. 


27b 

rious  in  his  researches  into  nature,  and,  on  account  of  his  wis¬ 
dom,  supposed  to  have  conversed  with  the  Muses,  consecrated 
this  fire,  and  ordered  it  to  be  perpetually  kept  up,  as  an  image 
of  that  eternal  power  which  preserves  and  actuates  the  uni¬ 
verse.  Others  say,  that  according  to  the  usage  of  the  Greeks, 
the  fire  is  kept  ever  burning  before  the  holy  places,  as  an  em¬ 
blem  of  purity;  but  that  there  are  other  things  in  the  most  se¬ 
cret  part  of  the  temple,  kept  from  the  sight  of  all  but  those 
virgins  whom  they  call  vestals ;  and  the  most  current  opinion 
is,  that  the  palladium  of  Troy,  which  iEneas  brought  into  Italy, 
is  laid  up  there. 

Others  say,  the  Samothracian  gods  are  there  concealed, 
whom  Dardanus,*  after  he  had  built  Troy,  brought  to  that 
city,  and  caused  to  be  worshipped;  and  that  after  the  taking 
of  Troy,  iEneas  privately  carried  them  of!',  and  kept  them  till 
he  settled  in  Italy.  But  those  that  pretend  to  know  most 
about  these  matters,  say,  there  are  placed  there  two  casks  of  a 
moderate  size,  the  one  open  and  empty,  the  other  full  and 
sealed  up,  but  neither  of  them  to  be  seen  by  any  but  those 
holy  virgins.  Others  again  think  this  is  all  a  mistake,  which 
arose  from  their  putting  most  of  their  sacred  utensils  in  two 
casks,  and  hiding  them  under  ground,  in  the  temple  of  Qui- 
rinus,  and  that  the  place,  from  those  casks,  is  still  called  Do - 
liola . 

They  took,  however,  with  them  the  choicest  and  most  sa 
cred  things  they  had,  and  fled  with  them  along  the  side  of  the 
river,  where  Lucius  Albinus,  a  plebeian,  among  others  that 
were  making  their  escape,  was  carrying  his  wife  and  children, 
and  some  of  his  most  necessary  moveables,  in  a  wagon.  But 
when  he  saw  the  vestals  in  a  helpless  and  weary  condition, 
carrying  in  their  arms  the  sacred  symbols  of  the  gods,  he  im¬ 
mediately  took  out  his  family  and  goods,  and  put  the  virgins 
in  the  wagon,  that  they  might  malte  their  escape  to  some  of 
the  Grecian  cities  +  This  piety  of  Alb  inn-  and  the  venera* 

*  Dardanus,  who  flourished  in  the  time  of  Moses,  about  the  year  before 
Christ  1480,  is  said  to  haye  been  originally  of  Arcadia,  from  whence  he  pass¬ 
ed  to  Samothrace.  Afterwards  lie  marred  Batea  or  Arista,  the  daughter  of 
Teucer,  king  of  Phrygia.  Of  the  Samothracian  gods  we  have  already  given 
an  account;  but  may  add  here,  from  Macrcbius,  that  the  dii  magni,  which 
Dardanus  brought  from  Samothrace,  were  the  penaies ,  or  household  gods, 
which  TEneas  afterwards  carried  into  Italy.  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  says 
he  had  seen  the  pennies  in  an  old  temple  at  Rome.  They  were  of  antique 
workmanship,  representing  two  young  men  sitting,  and  holding  each  a  lance 
in  his  hand,  and  had  for  their  inscription  Dcnas,  instead  of  Fenas. 

t  Albinus  conducted  them  to  Caere,  a  city  of  Hetmria,  where  they  met 
with  a  favourable  reception.  The  vestals  remained  a  considerable  time  at 
Caere,  and  there  performed  the  usual  rites  of  religion:  and  h°m  e  th<»se  rite? 
were  called  Ceremonies . 


276 


CAMILLUS. 


lion  he  expressed  for  the  gods  at  so  dangerous  a  juncture,  de¬ 
serves  to  be  recorded. 

As  for  the  other  priests,  and  the  most  ancient  of  the  sena¬ 
tors  that  were  of  consular  dignity,  or  had  been  honoured  with 
triumphs,  they  could  not  bear  to  think  of  quitting  the  city. 
They,  therefore,  put  on  their  holy  vestments  and  robes  of 
state,  and,  in  a  form  dictated  by  Fabius  the  pontifex  maximus , 
making  their  vows  to  the  gods,* * * §  devoted  themselves  to  their 
country.  Thus  attired,  they  sat  down  in  their  ivory  chairs 
in  the  forum, t  prepared  for  the  worst  extremity. 

The  third  day  after  the  battle,  Brennus  arrived  with  his 
army;  and  finding  the  gates  of  the  city  opened,  and  the  walls 
destitute  of  guards,  at  first  he  had  some  apprehensions  of  a 
stratagem  or  ambuscade,  for  he  could  not  think  the  Romans 
had  so  entirely  given  themselves  up  to  despair.  But  when  he 
found  it  to  be  so  in  reality,  he  entered  by  the  Colline  gate,  and 
took  Rome,  a  little  more  than  three  hundred  and  sixty  years 
after  its  foundation;  if  it  is  likely  that  any  exact  account  has 
been  kept  of  those  times,!  the  confusion  of  which  has  occasion¬ 
ed  so  much  obscurity  in  things  of  a  later  date. 

Some  uncertain  rumours,  however,  of  Rome’s  being  taken, 
appear  to  have  soon  passed  into  Greece;  for  Iieraclides  of 
Pontus,§  who  lived  not  long  after  these  times,  in  his  treatise 
concerning  the  soul,  relates,  that  an  account  was  brought  from 
the  west,  that  an  army  from  the  country  of  the  Hyperboreans,  |) 
had  taken  a  Greek  city  called  Rome,  situated  somewhere  neai 
the  Great  Sea.  But  I  do  not  wonder  that  such  a  fabulous  wri 
ter  as  Heraclides  should  embellish  his  account  of  the  taking  of 
Rome  with  the  pompous  terms  of  Hyperboreans  and  the  Great 
Sea.  It  is  very  clear  that  Aristotle  the  philosopher  had  heard 
that  Rome  was  taken  by  the  Gauls;  but  he  calls  its  deliverer 

*  The  Romans  believed,  that  by  those  voluntary  consecrations  to  the  in¬ 
fernal  gods,  disorder  and  confusion  were  brought  among  the  enemy. 

!  These  ivory,  or  curule  chairs  were  used  only  by  those  who  had  borne 
the  most  honourable  offices;  and  the  persons  who  had  a  right  to  sit  in  them 
bore  also  ivory  staves, 

t  Livy  tells  us,  that  the  Romnna  i/r  those  times  did  not  much  apply  them- 
selves  to  writing,  and  that  the  commentaries  of  the  ponti fices,  and  their  other 
monuments,  both  public  and  private,  were  destroyed  when  the  city  was 
burnt  by  the  Gauls. 

§  lie  lived  at  that  very  time;  fer  he  was  at  first  Plate’s  scholar,  and  after 
wards  Aristotle’s;  and  Plata  was  but  forty-one  years  old  when  Rome  was  ta- 
k:cn. 

]j  The  ancients  called  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  north  Hyperboreans ,  and 
the  Mediterranean  the  Great  Sea ,  to  distinguish  it  from  the  Euxine.  Not¬ 
withstanding  that  Heraclides  was  right  in  this,  he  might  be  a  very  fabulom 
writer:  so  was  Herodotus;  and  so  were  the  ancient  historians  of  almost  all 
countries;  and  the  reason  is  obvious;  they  had  little  more  than  tradition  tc 


CAMILLUS. 


27? 


Lucius;  whereas  Camillus  was  not  called  Lucius  but  Marcus. 
These  authors  had  no  better  authority  than  common  report. 

Brennus,  thus  in  possession  of  Rome,  set  a  strong  guard 
about  the  Capitol,  and  himself  went  down  into  the  forum  l 
where  he  was  struck  with  amazement  at  the  sight  of  so  many 
men  seated  in  great  state  and  silence,  who  neither  rose  up  at 
the  approach  of  their  enemies,  nor  changed  countenance  or 
colour,  but  leaned  upon  their  staves,  and  sat  looking  upon 
each  other  without  fear  or  concern.  The  Gauls,  astonished 
at  so  surprising  a  spectacle,  and  regarding  them  as  superior 
beings,  for  along  time  were  afraid  to  approach  or  touch  them. 
At  last  one  of  them  ventured  to  go  near  Manius  Papirius,  and 
advancing  his  hand,  gently  stroked  his  beard,  which  was  very 
long;  upon  which  Papirius  struck  him  on  the  head  with  his 
staff,  and  wounded  him.  The  barbarian  then  drew  his  sword 
and  killed  him.  After  this,  the  Gauls  fell  upon  the  rest  and 
slew  them,  and  continuing  their  rage,  despatched  all  that 
came  in  their  way.  Then,  for  many  days  together,  they  pil¬ 
laged  the  houses  and  carried  off  the  spoil;  at  last  they  set  fire 
to  the  city,  and  demolished  what  escaped  the  flames,  to  ex¬ 
press  their  indignation  against  those  in  the  Capitol  who  obeyed 
not  their  summons,  but  made  a  vigorous  defence,  and  greatly 
annoyed  the  besiegers  from  the  walls.  This  it  was  that  pro¬ 
voked  them  to  destroy  the  whole  city,  and  to  despatch  all  that 
fell  into  their  hands,  without  sparing  either  sex  or  age. 

As  by  the  length  of  the  siege  provisions  began  to  fail  the 
Gauls,  they  divided  their  forces,  and  part  stayed  with  the 
king  before  that  fortress,  while  part  foraged  the  country,  and 
*aid  waste  the  towns  and  villages.  Their  success  had  inspired 
them  with  such  confidence,  that  they  did  not  keep  in  a  body, 
but  carelessly  rambled  about  in  different  troops  and  parties. 
It  happened  that  the  larged  and  best  disciplined  corps  went 
against  Ardea,  where  O  villus,  since  his  exile,  lived  in  abso¬ 
lute  retirement.  This  great  event,  however,  aw^aked  him  into 
action,  and  his  mind  was  employed  in  contriving,  not  how  to 
keep  himself  concealed  and  to  avoid  the  Gauls,  but,  if  an  op¬ 
portunity  should  offer,  to  attack  and  conquer  them.  Perceiv¬ 
ing  that  the  Ardeans  were  not  deficient  in  numbers,  but  cou¬ 
rage  and  discipline,  which  was  owing  to  the  inexperience  and 
inactivity  of  their  officers,  he  applied  first  to  the  young  men, 
and  told  them — “  They  ought  not  to  ascribe  the  defeat  of  the 
Romans  to  the  valour  of  the  Gauls,  or  to  consider  the  calami¬ 
ties  they  had  suffered  in  the  midst  of  their  infatuation,  as 
brought  upon  them  by  men  who,  in  fact,  could  not  claim  the 
merit  of  the  victory,  but  as  the  work  of  fortune.  That  it 
would  be  glorious,  though  they  risked  something  by  it,  to  re 
pel  a  foreign  and  barbarous  enemy,  whose  end  in  conquering 

25  * 


278 


CAMILLUS. 


was,  like  fire,  to  destroy  what  they  subdued;  but  that  if  they 
would  assume  a  proper  spirit,  he  would  give  them  an  oppor¬ 
tunity  to  conquer  without  any  hazard  at  all.”  When  he  found 
the  young  men  were  pleased  with  his  discourse,  he  went  next 
to  the  magistrates  and  senate  of  Ardea,  and  having  persuaded 
them  also  to  adopt  his  scheme,  he  armed  all  that  were  of  a 
proper  age  for  it,  and  drew  them  up  within  the  walls,  that  the 
enemy,  who  were  but  at  a  small  distance,  might  not  know 
what  he  was  about. 

The  Gauls,  having  scoured  the  country,  and  loaded  them 
selves  with  plunder,  encamped  upon  the  plains  in  a  careless 
and  disorderly  manner.  Night  found  them  intoxicated  with 
wine,  and  silence  reigned  in  the  camp.  As  soon  as  Camillus 
was  informed  of  this  by  his  spies,  he  led  the  Ardeans  out;  and 
having  passed  the  intermediate  space  without  noise,  he  reach¬ 
ed  their  camp  about  midnight.  Then  he  ordered  a  loud  shout 
to  be  set  up;  and  the  trumpets  to  sound  on  all  sides,  to  cause 
the  greater  confusion;  but  it  was  with  difficulty  they  recover¬ 
ed  themselves  from  their  sleep  and  intoxication.  A  few, 
whom  fear  had  made  sober,  snatched  up  their  arms  to  oppose 
Camillus,  and  fell  with  their  weapons  in  their  hands;  but  the 
greatest  part  of  them,  buried  in  sleep  and  wine,  were  surpris¬ 
ed  unarmed,  and  easily  despatched.  A  small  number,  that  in 
the  night  escaped  out  of  the  camp,  and  wandered  in  the  fields, 
were  picked  up  next  day  by  the  cavalry,  and  put  to  the  sword. 

The  fame  of  this  action  soon  reaching  the  neighbouring 
cities,  drew  out  many  of  their  ablest  warriors.  Particularly, 
such  of  the  Romans  as  had  escaped  from  the  battle  of  Aliia 
to  Veii,  lamented  with  themselves  in  some  such  manner  as 
this: — “What  a  general  has  heaven  taken  from  Rome  in  Ca¬ 
millus,  to  adorn  the  Ardeans  with  his  exploits!  while  the  city 
which  produced  and  brought  up  so  great  a  man  is  absolutely 
ruined;  and  we  for  want  of  a  leader,  sit  idle  within  the  walls 
of  a  strange  city,  and  betray  the  liberties  of  Italy.  Come, 
then,  let  us  send  to  the  Ardeans  to  demand  our  general,  or  else 
take  our  weapons  and  go  to  him:  for  he  is  no  longer  an  exile, 
nor  we  citizens,  having  no  country  but  what  is  in  possession 
of  an  enemy.” 

This  motion  was  agreed  to,  and  they  sent  to  Camillus  to  en¬ 
treat  him  to  accept  of  the  command.  But  he  answered,  he  could 
not  do  it,  before  he  was  legally  appointed  to  do  it  by  the  Ro¬ 
mans  in  the  Capitol;*  for  he  looked  upon  them,  while  they 


*  Livy  says,  the  Roman  soldiers  at  Veii  applied  *o  the  remains  of  the  senate 
in  the  Capitol  for  leave,  before  they  offered  the  command  to  Camillus.  Sc 
much  regard  had  those  brave  men  for  the  constitution  of  their  country,  though 
'vome  then  lay  in  ashes.  Every  private  man  was  indeed  a  patriot. 


CAMILLUS. 


27<J 


were  in  being,  as  the  commonwealth,  and  would  readily  obey 
their  orders,  but  without  them  would  not  be  so  officious  as  to 
.nterpose.  * 

They  admired  the  modesty  and  honour  of  Camillus,  but 
knew  not  how  to  send  the  proposal  to  the  Capitol.  It  seemed, 
indeed,  impossible  for  a  messenger  to  pass  into  the  citadel 
whilst  the  enemy  were  in  possession  of  the  city.  However, 
a  young  man  named  Pontius  Cominius,  not  distinguished 
by  his  birth,  but  fond  of  glory,  readily  took  upon  him  the 
commission.  He  carried  no  letters  to  the  citizens  in  the  Capi¬ 
tol,  lest,  if  he  should  happen  to  be  taken,  the  enemy  should 
discover  by  them  the  intentions  of  Camillus.  Having  dressed 
himself  in  mean  attire,  under  which  he  concealed  some  pieces 
of  cork,  he  travelled  all  day  without  fear,  and  approached  the 
city  as  it  grew  dark.  He  could  not  pass  the  river  by  the 
bridge,  because  it  was  guarded  by  the  Gauls,  and,  therefore, 
took  his  clothes,  which  were  neither  many  nor  heavy,  and 
bound  them  about  his  head;  and  having  laid  himself  upon  the 
pieces  of  cork,  easily  swam  over  and  reached  the  city.  Then 
avoiding  those  quarters  where,  by  the  lights  and  noise,  he 
concluded  they  kept  watch,  he  went  to  the  Carmental  gate, 
where  there  was  the  greatest  silence,  and  whei  e  the  hill  of  the 
Capitol  is  the  steepest  and  most  craggy.  Up  this  he  got  un¬ 
perceived,  by  a  way  the  most  difficult  and  dreadful,  and  ad¬ 
vanced  near  the  guards  upon  the  walls.  After  he  had  hailed 
them,  and  told  them  his  name,  they  received  him  with  joy, 
and  conducted  him  to  the  magistrates. 

The  senate  was  presently  assembled,  and  he  acquainted  them 
with  the  victory  of  Camillus,  which  they  had  not  heard  of  be¬ 
fore,  as  well  as  with  the  proceedings  of  the  soldiers  at  Veii, 
uid  exhorted  them  to  confirm  Camillus  in  the  command,  as 
the  citizens  out  of  Rome  would  obey  none  but  him.  Having 
heard  his  report,  and  consulted  together,  they  declared  Camil¬ 
lus  dictator,  and  sent  Pontius  back  the  same  way  he  came, 
who  was  equally  fortunate  in  his  return;  for  he  passed  the 
enemy  undiscovered,  and  delivered  to  the  Romans  at  Veii  the 
decree  of  the  senate,  which  they  received  with  pleasure. 

Camillus,  on  his  arrival,  found  twenty  thousand  of  them  in 
arms,  to  whom  he  added  a  greater  number  of  the  allies,  and 
prepared  to  attack  the  enemy.  Thus  was  he  appointed  dicta¬ 
tor  the  second  time;  and  having  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the 
Romans  and  confederates,  he  marched  out  against  the  Gauls. 

Mean  time,  some  of  the  barbarians  employed  in  the  si?ge, 
happening  to  pass  by  the  place  where  Pontius  had  made  his 
way  by  night  up  to  the  Capitol,  observe  1  many  traces  of  his 


MjtS'iV  /AihuTf'jL? 


280 


CAxUILLUS. 


leet  and  hands,  as  he  had  worked  himself  up  the  rock,  torn  ofi 
what  grew  there,  and  tumbled  down  the  mould.  Of  this  they 
informed  the  king:  who  coming  and  viewing  it  for  the  present 
said  nothing;  but  in  the  evening  he  assembled  the  lightest  and 
most  active  of  his  men,  who  were  the  likeliest  to  climb  any 
difficult  height,  and  thus  addressed  them: — “  The  enemy  have 
themselves  shown  us  a  way  to  reach  them,  which  we  weic 
ignorant  of,  and  have  proved  that  this  rock  is  neither  inacces¬ 
sible  nor  untrod  by  human  feet.  What  a  shame  would  it  be 
then,  after  having  made  a  beginning,  not  to  finish;  and  to  quit 
the  place  as  impregnable,  when  the  Romans  themselves  have 
taught  us  how  to  take  it?  Where  it  was  easy  for  one  man  to 
ascend,  it  can  not  be  difficult  for  many,  one  by  one;  nay, 
should  many  attempt  it  together,  they  will  find  great  advan¬ 
tage  in  assisting  each  other.  In  the  mean  time,  I  intend  great 
rewards  and  honours  for  such  as  shall  distinguish  themselves 
on  this  occasion.” 

The  Gauls  readily  embraced  the  king’s  proposal;  and  about 
midnight  a  number  of  them  together  began  to  climb  the  rock 
in  silence,  which  though  steep  and  craggy,  proved  more  prac¬ 
ticable  than  they  expected.  The  foremost  having  gained  the 
top,  put  themselves  in  order,  and  were  ready  to  take  posses¬ 
sion  of  the  wall,  and  to  fall  upon  the  guards,  who  were  fast 
asleep;  for  neither  man  nor  dog  perceived  their  coming. 
However,  there  were  certain  sacred  geese  kept  near  Juno’s 
temple,*  and  at  other  times  plentifully  fed;  but  at  this  time, 
as  corn  and  the  other  provisions  that  remained  were  scarce 
sufficient  for  the  men,  they  were  neglected  and  in  poor  condi¬ 
tion.  This  animal  is  naturally  quick  of  hearing,  and  soon 
alarmed  at  any  noise;  and  as  hunger  kept  them  waking  and 
uneasy,  they  immediately  perceived  the  coming  of  the  Gauls, 
and  running  at  them  with  all  the  noise  they  could  make,  they 
awoke  all  the  guards.  The  barbarians  now,  perceiving  they 
were  discovered,  advanced  with  loud  shouts  and  great  fury. 
The  Romans  in  haste  snatched  up  such  weapons  as  came  to 
hand,  and  acquitted  themselves  like  men  on  this  sudden  emer¬ 
gency.  First  of  all,  Manlius,  a  man  of  consular  dignity,  re¬ 
markable  for  his  strength  and  extraordinary  courage,  engaged 
two  Gauls  at  once;  and  as  one  of  them  was  lifting  his  battle- 
axe,  with  his  sword  cut  off  his  right  hand;  at  the  same  time 
he  thrust  the  boss  of  his  shield  in  the  face  of  the  other,  and 

*  Geese  were  ever  after  had  in  honour  at  Rome,  and  a  flock  of  them  al¬ 
ways  kept  at  the  expense  of  the  public.  A  golden  image  of  a  goose  was 
erected  in  memory  of  them,  and  a  goose  every  year  earned  in  triumph  upon 
a  soft  litter  finely  adorned;  while  dogs  were  held  in  abhorrence  by  the  Ro¬ 
mans,  who  every  year  impaled  one  of  them  upon  a  branch  of  elder. — Plin 
ti  Pint,  de  Fortund 


CAM1LLUS. 


281 


dashed  him  down  the  precipice.  Thus  standing  upon  the 
rampart,  with  those  that  had  come  to  his  assistance,  and  fough4 
by  his  side,  he  drove  back  the  rest  of  the  Gauls  that  had  got 
up,  wno  were  no  great  number,  and  who  performed  nothing 
worthy  of  such  an  attempt.  The  Romans  having  thus  escaped 
the  danger  that  threatened  them,  as  soon  as  it  was  light,  threw 
the  officer  that  commanded  the  watch  down  the  rock  amongst 
ihe  enemy,  and  decreed  Manlius  a  reward  for  his  victory, 
which  had  more  of  honour  in  it  than  profit;  for  every  man 
gave  him  what  he  had  for  one  day’s  allowance,  which  was  half 
a  pound  of  bread,  and  a  quartern  of  the  Greek  cotyle. 

After  this  the  Gauls  began  to  lose  courage;  for  provisions 
were  scarce,  and  they  could  not  forage  for  fear  of  Camillus.* 
Sickness,  too,  prevailed  among  them,  which  took  its  rise  from 
the  heaps  of  dead  bodies,  and  from  their  encamping  amidst  the 
rubbish  of  the  houses  they  had  burnt;  where  there  was  such  a 
quantity  of  ashes,  as,  when  raised  by  the  winds  or  heated  by 
the  sun,  by  their  dry  and  acrid  quality  so  corrupted  the  air, 
that  every  breath  of  it  was  pernicious.  But  what  affected 
them  most  was  the  change  of  climate;  for  they  had  lived  in 
countries  that  abounded  with  shades  and  agreeable  shelters 
from  the  heat,  and  were  now  got  into  grounds  that  were  low, 
and  unhealthy  in  autumn.  All  this,  together  with  the  length 
and  tediousness  of  the  siege,  which  had  now  lasted  more  than 
six  months,  caused  such  desolation  among  them,  and  carried 
off  such  numbers,  that  the  carcasses  lay  unburied. 

The  besieged,  however,  were  not  in  a  much  better  condition. 
Famine,  which  now  pressed  them  hard,  and  their  ignorance 
of  what  Camillus  was  doing,  caused  no  small  dejection;  for 
the  barbarians  guarded  the  city  with  so  much  care,  that  it  was 
impossible  to  send  any  messenger  to  him.  Both  sides  being 
thus  equally  discouraged,  the  advanced  guards,  who  were 
near  enough  to  converse,  first  began  to  talk  of  treating.  As 
the  motion  was  approved  by  those  that  had  the  chief  direction 
of  affairs,  Sulpitius,  one  of  the  military  tribunes,  went  and 
conferred  with  Brennus,  where  it  was  agreed  that  the  Romans 
should  pay  a  thousand  pounds  weight  of  goldt  and  that  the 
Gauls,  upon  the  receipt  of  it,  should  immediately  quit  the  city 
and  its  territories.  When  the  conditions  were  sworn  to,  and 
the  gold  was  brought,  the  Gauls,  endeavouring  to  avail  them¬ 
selves  of  false  weights,  privately  at  first,  and  afterwards  open¬ 
ly,  drew  down  their  own  side  of  the  balance.  The  Romans 
expressing  their  resentmer  t,  Brennus,  in  a  contemptuous  and 


*  Camillas  being’  master  of  the  country,  posted  strong  guards  on  all  the 
roads,  and,  in  effect,  besieged  the  besiegers, 
t  That  is  forty-five  thousand  pounds  sterling 

Von  i. - 2  P 


282 


CAMILLUS. 


insulting  manner,  took  off  his  sword,  and  threw  it,  belt  and 
all,  into  the  scale;  and  when  Sulpitius  asked  what  that  meant, 
he  answered: — 46  What  should  it  mean  but  wo*  to  the  conquer¬ 
ed  ;”  which  became  a  proverbial  saying.  Some  of  the  Romans 
were  highly  incensed  at  this;  and  talked  of  returning  with 
their  gold,  and  enduring  the  utmost  extremities  of  the  siege; 
but  others  were  of  opinion  that  it  was  better  to  pass  by  a  small 
injury,  since  the  indignity  lay  not  in  paying  more  than  was 
due,  but  in  paying  any  thing  at  all;  a  disgrace  only  consequent 
upon  the  necessity  of  the  times. 

While  they  were  thus  disputing  with  the  Gauls,  Camillus 
arrived  at  the  gates,  and  being  informed  of  what  had  passed, 
ordered  the  main  body  of  his  army  to  advance  slowly  and  in 
good  order,  while  he  with  a  select  band  marched  hastily  up  to 
the  Romans,  who  all  gave  place,  and  received  the  dictator 
with  respect  and  silence.  Then  he  took  the  gold  out  of  the 
scales,  and  gave  it  to  the  lictors ,  and  ordered  the  Gauls  to  take 
away  the  balance  and  the  weights,  and  to  be  gone,  telling 
them, — “  It  was  the  custom  of  the  Romans  to  deliver  their 
country  with  steel,  and  not  with  gold.”  And  when  Brennus 
expressed  his  indignation,  and  complained  he  had  great  in¬ 
justice  done  him  by  this  infraction  of  the  treaty,  Camillus  an¬ 
swered, — “  That  it  was  never  lawfully  made;  nor  could  it  be 
valid  without  his  consent,  who  was  dictator  and  sole  magis¬ 
trate;  they  had,  therefore,  acted  without  proper  authority. 
But  they  might  make  their  proposals  now  he  was  come,  whom 
the  laws  had  invested  with  power  either  to  pardon  the  sup 
pliant,  or  punish  the  guilty,  if  proper  satisfaction  was  not 
made. 

At  this  Brennus  was  still  more  highly  incensed,  and  a  skir¬ 
mish  ensued;  swords  were  drawn  on  both  sides,  and  thrusts 
exchanged  in  a  confused  manner,  which  it  is  easy  to  conceive 
must  be  the  case,  amidst  the  ruins  of  houses,  and  in  narrow 
streets,  where  there  was  not  room  to  draw  up  regularly. 
Brennus,  however,  soon  recollected  himself,  and  drew  off  his 
forces  into  the  camp,  with  the  loss  of  a  small  number.  In  the 
night  he  ordered  them  to  march,  and  quit  the  city;  and  hav¬ 
ing  retreated  about  eight  miles  from  it,  ne  encamped  upon  the 
Gabinian  road.  Early  in  the  morning  Camillus  came  jp  with 
them,  his  arms  dazzling  the  sight,  and  his  men  full  of  spirits 
and  fire.  A  sharp  engagement  ensued,  which  lasted  a  long 
time;  at  length  the  Gauls  were  routed  with  great  slaughter, 
and  their  camp  taken.  Some  of  those  that  fled  were  killed  in 
the  pursuit;  but  the  greater  part  were  cut  in  pieces  bv  the  peo* 


r  Vae  ri  efts' 


CAMILLUS. 


283 


pie  in  the  neighbouring  towns  and  villages,  who  fell  upon  them 
as  they  were  dispersed.* 

Thus  was  Rome  strangely  taken,  and  more  strangely  recov¬ 
ered,  after  it  had  been  seven  months  in  the  possession  of  the 
barbarians;  for  they  entered  it  a  little  after  the  Ides ,  the  fif¬ 
teenth  of  July,  and  were  driven  out  about  the  Ides ,  the  thir¬ 
teenth  of  February  following.  Camillus  returned  in  triumph, 
as  became  the  deliverer  of  his  lost  country,  and  the  restorer  of 
Rome.  Those  that  had  quitted  the  place  before  the  siege,  with 
their  wives  and  children,  now  followed  his  chariot;  and  they 
that  had  been  besieged  in  the  Capitol,  and  were  almost  per¬ 
ishing  with  hunger,  met  the  others  and  embraced  them,  weep¬ 
ing  for  joy  at  this  unexpected  pleasure,  which  they  almost  con¬ 
sidered  as  a  dream.  The  priests  and  ministers  of  the  gods 
bringing  back  with  them  what  holy  things  they  had  hid  or 
conveyed  away  when  they  fled,  afforded  a  most  desirable 
spectacle  to  the  people;  and  they  gave  them  the  kindest  wel 
come,  as  if  the  gods  themselves  had  returned  with  them  to 
Rome.  Next,  Camillus  sacrificed  to  the  gods,  and  purified 
the  city,  in  a  form  dictated  by  the  pontiffs.  He  rebuilt  the 
former  temples,  and  erected  a  new  one  to  Aius  Loquutius ,  the 
speaker ,  or  Warner ,  upon  the  very  spot  where  the  voice  from 
heaven  announced  in  the  night  to  Marcus  Ceditius  the  coming 
of  the  barbarians.  There  was,  indeed,  no  small  difficulty  in 
discovering  the  places  where  the  temples  had  stood,  but  it  was 
effected  by  the  zeal  of  Camillus  and  the  industry  of  the  priests. 

As  it  was  necessary  to  rebuild  the  city,  which  was  entire¬ 
ly  demolished,  a  heartless  despondency  seized  the  multitude, 
and  they  invented  pretexts  of  delay.  They  were  in  want  of 
all  necessary  materials,  and  had  more  occasion  for  repose  and 
refreshment  after  their  sufferings,  than  to  labour  and  wear 
themselves  out,  when  their  bodies  were  weak,  and  their  sub¬ 
stance  was  gone.  They  had,  therefore,  a  secret  attachment  to 
Veii,  a  city  which  remained  entire,  and  was  provided  with 
every  thing.  This  gave,  a  handle  to  their  demagogues  to  ha¬ 
rangue  them,  as  usual,  in  a  way  agreeable  to  their  inclinations, 
and  made  them  listen  to  seditious  speeches  against  Camillus, — 
i6  As  if,  to  gratify  his  ambition  and  thirst  of  glory,  he  would 
deprive  them  of  a  city  fit  to  receive  them,  force  them  to  pitch 
their  tents  among  rubbish,  and  rebuild  a  ruin  that  was  like 
one  great  funeral-pile,  in  order  that  he  might  not  only  be  call- 

*  There  is-  reason  to  question  the  truth  of  the  latter  part  of  tills  story. 
Plutarch  copied  it  from  Livy.  But  Polybius  represents  the  Gauls,  as  actu¬ 
ally  receiving1  the  gold  from  the  Romans,  and  returning  in  safety  to  their 
own  country;  and  this  is  confirmed  by  Justin,  Suetonius,  and  even  by  Livv 
himself,  in  another  part  of  his  history; — x.  16. 


CAMILLUS. 


284 

ed  the  general  and  dictator  of  Rome,  but  the  founder  too,  in* 
stead  of  Romulus,  whose  right  he  invaded.” 

On  this  account,  the  senate,  afraid  of  an  insurrection,  would 
not  let  Camillus  lay  down  the  dictatorship  within  the  year,  as 
he  desired,  though  no  other  person  had  ever  borne  that  high 
office  more  than  six  months.  In  the  mean  time  they  went 
about  to  console  the  people,  to  gain  them  by  caresses  and 
kind  persuasions.  One  while  they  showed  them  the  monu¬ 
ments  and  tombs  of  their  ancestors;  then  they  put  them  in 
mind  of  their  temples  and  holy  places,  which  Romulus  and 
Numa,  and  the  other  kings,  had  consecrated  and  left  in  charge 
with  them.  Above  all,  amidst  the  sacred  and  awful  symbols, 
they  took  care  to  make  them  recollect  the  fresh  human  head,* 
which  was  found  when  the  foundations  of  the  Capitol  were 
dug,  and  wThich  presignified,  that  the  same  place  was  destined 
to  be  the  head  of  Italy.  They  urged  the  disgrace  it  would  be 
to  extinguish  again  the  sacred  fire,  which  the  vestals  had 
lighted  since  the  wrar,  and  to  quit  the  city;  whether  they  were 
to  see  it  inhabited  by  strangers,  or  a  desolate  wild  for  flocks 
to  feed  in.  In  this  moving  manner  the  patricians  remonstra¬ 
ted  to  the  people  both  in  public  and  private;  and  were  :n  their 
turn  much  anected  by  the  distress  of  the  multitude,  who  la¬ 
mented  their  present  indigence,  and  begged  of  them,  now  they 
were  collected  like  the  remains  of  a  shipwreck,  not  to  oblige 
them  to  patch  up  the  ruins  of  a  desolated  city,  when  there  was 
one  entire  and  ready  to  receive  them. 

Camillus,  therefore,  thought  proper  to  take  the  judgment  of 
the  senate  in  a  body;  and  when  he  had  exerted  his  eloquence 
in  favour  of  his  native  country,  and  others  had  done  the  same, 
he  put  it  to  the  vote,  beginning  with  Lucius  Lucretius,  whose 
right  it  was  to  vote  first,  and  who  was  to  be  followed  by  the 
rest  in  their  order.  Silence  was  made;  and  as  Lucretius  was 
about  to  declare  himself,  it  happened  that  a  centurion,  who 
then  commanded  the  day-guard,  as  he  passed  the  house,  call¬ 
ed  with  a  loud  voice  to  the  ensign, — “to  stop  and  setup  his 
standard  there,  for  that  was  the  best  place  to  stay  in.”  These 
words  being  so  seasonably  uttered,  at  a  time  when  they  were 
doubtful  and  anxious  about  the  event,  Lucretius  gave  thanks 
to  the  gods,  and  embraced  the  omen,  while  the  rest  gladly  as¬ 
sented.  A  wonderful  change,  at  the  same  time,  took  place 

*  This  prodigy  happened  in  the  reign  of  Tarquin  the  Proud,  who  un¬ 
doubtedly  must  have  put  the  head  there  on  purpose;  for  in  digging  the 
foundation,  it  was  found  warm  and  bleeding,  as  if  just  severed  from  the  body. 
Upon  this  the  Romans  sent  to  consult  the  Tuscan  soothsayers,  who,  aftei 
vainly  endeavouring  to  bring  the  presage  to  favour  their  own  country,  ac¬ 
knowledged  that  the  place  where  that  head  was  found  would  be  the  head 
of  all  Italy. — Dion.  Hat.  Lb.  iv. 


CAMILLAS. 


285 


in  the  minds  of  the  people,  who  exhorted  and  encouraged  each 
other  to  the  work,  and  they  began  to  build  immediately,  not 
in  any  order,  or  upon  a  regular  plan,  but  as  inclination  or  con¬ 
venience  directed.  By  reason  of  this  hurry  the  streets  were 
narrow  and  intricate,  and  the  houses  badly  laid  out;  for  they 
tell  us  both  the  walls  of  the  city  and  the  streets  were  built  with¬ 
in  the  compass  of  a  year. 

The  persons  appointed  by  Camillus  to  search  for  and  mark 
out  the  holy  places,  found  all  in  confusion.  As  they  were 
Looking  round  the  Palatium ,  they  came  to  the  court  of  Mars , 
where  the  buildings,  like  the  rest,  were  burnt  and  demolish¬ 
ed  by  the  barbarians;  but  in  removing  the  rubbish  and  clear¬ 
ing  the  place,  they  discovered,  under  a  great  heap  of  ashes, 
the  augural  staff  of  Romulus.  This  staff  is  crooked  at  one  end, 
and  called  lituus.  It  is  used  in  marking  out  the  several  quar¬ 
ters  of  the  heavens,  in  any  process  of  divination  by  the  flight 
of  birds,  which  Romulus  was  much  skilled  in  and  made  great 
use  of.  When  he  was  taken  out  of  the  world,  the  priests  care 
fully  preserved  the  staff  from  defilement,  like  other  holy 
relics;  and  this  having  escaped  the  fire,  when  the  rest  were 
consumed,  they  indulged  a  pleasing  hope,  and  considered  it 
as  a  presage,  that  Rome  would  last  forever.  * 

Before  they  had  finished  the  laborious  task  of  building,  a 
new  war  broke  out.  The  A^qui,  the  Volsci,  and  the  Latins, 
all  at  once  invaded  their  territories,  and  the  Tuscans  laid  siege 
to  Sutrium,  a  city  in  alliance  with  Rome.  The  military  tri¬ 
bunes,  too,  who  commanded  the  army,  being  surrounded  by 
the  Latins,  near  Mount  Marcius,  and  their  camp  in  great  dan¬ 
ger,  sent  to  Rome  to  desire  succours;  on  which  occasion  Camil¬ 
lus  was  appointed  dictator  the  third  time. 

Of  this  war  there  are  two  different  accounts:  I  begin  witli 
the  fabulous  one.  It  is  said,  the  Latins  either  seeking  a  pre¬ 
tence  for  war,  or  really  inclined  to  renew  their  ancient  affinity 
with  the  Romans,  sent  to  demand  of  them  a  number  of  free¬ 
born  virgins  in  marriage.  The  Romans  were  in  no  small  per¬ 
plexity  as  to  the  course  they  should  take:  for,  on  the  one  hand, 
they  were  afraid  of  war,  as  they  were  not  yet  re-established, 
nor  had  recovered  their  losses;  and  on  the  other,  they  suspect¬ 
ed  that  the  Latins  only  wanted  their  daughters  for  hostages, 


*  About  this  time,  the  tribunes  of  the  people  determined  to  impeach  Q. 
Fabius,  who  had  violated  the  law  of  nations,  and  thereby  provoked  the 
Hauls,  and  occasioned  the  burning' of  Rome.  His  crime  being  notorious,  he 
was  summoned  by  C.  Martius  Rutilus  before  the  assembly  of  the  people,  to 
answer  for  his  conduct  in  the  embassy.  The  criminal  had  reason  to  fear  the 
severest  punishment;  but  bis  relations  gave  out  that  he  died  suddenly  ;  which 
generally  happened  when  the  accused  person  had  courage  enough  to  pro 
vent  his  condemnation,  and  the  shame  of  a  public  punishment 

26 


286 


CAM1LLUS. 


though  they  coloured  their  design  with  the  special  name  oi 
marriage.  While  they  were  thus  embarrassed,  a  female  slave, 
named  Tutula,*  or,  as  some  call  her,  Philotis,  advised  tne 
magistrates  to  send  with  her  some  of  the  handsomest  and  most 
genteel  of  the  maid  servants,  dressed  like  virgins  of  good 
families,  and  leave  the  rest  to  her.  The  magistrates  approv¬ 
ing  the  expedient,  chose  a  number  of  female  slaves  proper  for 
her  purpose,  and  sent  them  richly  attired  to  the  Latin  camp, 
which  was  not  far  from  the  city.  At  night,  while  the  other 
slaves  conveyed  away  the  enemies’  swords,  Tutula  or  Philotis 
got  up  into  a  wild  fig-tree  of  considerable  height,  and  having 
spread  a  thick  garment  behind,  to  conceal  her  design  from  the 
Latins,  held  up  a  torch  towards  Rome,  which  was  the  signal 
agreed  upon  between  her  and  the  magistrates,  who  alone  were 
iri  the  secret.  For  this  reason  the  soldiers  sallied  out  in  a  tu¬ 
multuous  manner,  calling  upon  each  other,  and  hastened  by 
their  officers,  who  found  it  difficult  to  bring  them  into  any  or 
der.  They  made  themselves  masters,  however,  of  the  em 
trenchments;  and  as  the  enemy,  expecting  no  such  attempt, 
were  asleep,  they  took  the  camp,  and  put  the  greatest  part  of 
them  to  the  sword.  This  happened  on  the  Nones,  the  seventh 
of  July,  then  called  Quintilis ;  and  on  that  day  they  celebrate  a 
feast  in  memory  of  this  action.  In  the  first  place,  they  sally 
in  a  crowding  and  disorderly  manner  out  of  the  city,  pro¬ 
nouncing  aloud  the  most  familiar  and  common  names,  as  Caius, 
Marcus,  Lucius,  and  the  like;  by  which  they  imitate  the  sol¬ 
diers  then  calling  upon  each  other  in  their  hurry.  Next,  the 
maid-servants  walk  about,  elegantly  dressed,  and  jesting  on 
all  they  meet.  They  have  also  a  kind  of  fight  among  them¬ 
selves,  to  express  the  assistance  they  gave  in  the  engagement 
with  the  Latins.  Then  they  sit  down  to  an  entertainment, 
shaded  with  branches  of  the  fig-tree.  And  that  day  is  called 
Nonas  Caprotinas ,  as  some  suppose,  on  account  of  the  wild  fig-tree, 
from  which  the  maid-servant  held  out  the  torch;  for  the  Romans 
called  that  tree  caprijicus.  Others  refer  the  greatest  part  of 
what  is  said  and  done  on  that  occasion  to  that  part  of  the  story 
of  Romulus  when  he  disappeared,  and  the  darkness  and  tem¬ 
pest,  or  as  some  imagine,  an  eclipse  happened.  It  was  on  the 
same  day,  at  least,  and  the  day  might  be  called  Nonas  Caprotinas; 
for  the  Romans  call  a  goat  Capra;  and  Romulus  vanished  out  of 
sight  while  he  was  holding  an  assembly  of  the  people  at  the 
Goat's  Marsh ,  as  we  have  related  in  his  life. 

The  other  account  that  is  given  of  this  war,  and  approved 
by  most  historians,  is  as  follows:  Camillus,  being  appointed 
dictator  the  third  time,  and  knowing  that  the  army  under  the 


*  In  l'fr  of  Romulus,  she  is  called  Tutula.  Macrobius calls  her  Tutela 


CAM1LLUS. 


287 


military  tribunes  was  surrounded  by  the  Latins  and  Volscians; 
was  constrained  to  make  levies  among  such  as  age  had  exempt 
ed  from  service.  With  these  he  fetched  a  large  compass  about 
mount  Marcius,  and,  unperceived  by  the  enemy,  posted  his 
army  behind  them;  and  by  lighting  many  fires  signified  his 
arrival.  The  Romans  that  were  besieged  in  their  camp,  being 
encouraged  by  this  resolved  to  sally  out  and  join  the  battle. 
But  the  Latins  and  Volscians  kept  close  within  their  works, 
drawing  a  line  of  circumvallation  with  palisades,  because  they 
had  the  enemy  on  both  sides,  and  resolving  to  wait  for  rein¬ 
forcements  from  home,  as  well  as  for  the  Tuscan  succours. 

Camillus  perceiving  this,  and  fearing  that  the  enemy  might 
surround  him,  as  he  had  surrounded  them,  hastened  to  make 
use  of  the  present  opportunity.  As  the  works  of  the  confede¬ 
rates  consisted  of  wood,  and  the  wind  used  to  blow  hard  from 
the  mountains  at  sun-rising,  he  provided  a  great  quantity  of 
combustible  matter,  and  drew  out  his  forces  at  day-break. 
Part  of  them  he  ordered,  with  loud  shouts  and  missive  wea¬ 
pons,  to  begin  the  attack  on  the  opposite  side;  while  he  him¬ 
self,  at  the  head  of  those  that  were  charged  with  the  fire, 
watched  the  proper  minute,  on  that  side  of  the  works  where 
tne  wind  used  to  blow  directly.  When  the  sun  was  risen  the 
wind  blew  violently ;  and  the  attack  being  begun  on  the  other 
side,  he  gave  the  signal  to  his  own  party,  who  poured  a  vast 
quantity  of  fiery  darts  and  other  burning  matter  into  the  ene- 
my’s  fortifications.  As  the  flame  soon  caught  hold,  and  was 
fed  by  the  palisades  and  other  timber,  it  spread  itself  into  all 
quarters;  and  the  Latins  not  being  provided  with  any  means 
of  extinguishing  it,  the  camp  was  almost  full  of  fire,  and  they 
were  reduced  to  a  small  spot  of  ground.  At  last  they  were 
forced  to  bear  down  upon  the  body  who  were  posted  before 
the  camp  and  ready  to  receive  them  sword  in  hand.  Conse¬ 
quently  very  few  of  them  escaped;  and  those  that  remained 
in  the  camp  were  destroyed  by  the  flames,  till  the  Romans  ex¬ 
tinguished  them  for  the  sake  of  the  plunder. 

After  this  exploit,  he  left  his  son  Lucius  in  the  camp,  to 
guard  the  prisoners  and  the  booty,  while  he  himself  penetrated 
into  the  enemy’s  country.  There  he  took  the  city  of  the 
Equi,  and  reduced  the  Volsci,  and  then  led  his  army  to  Su- 
irium,  whose  fate  he  was  not  yet  apprised  of,  and  which  he 
hoped  to  relieve  by  fighting  the  Tuscans  who  had  sat  down 
before  it.  But  the  Sutrians  had  already  surrendered  their 
'own,  with  the  loss  of  every  thing  but  the  clothes  they  had 
on;  and  in  this  condition  he  met  them  by  the  way,  with  theii 
wives  and  children,  bewailing  their  misfortunes.  Camillus 
was  extremely  moved  at  so  sad  a  spectacle;  and  perceiving 
that  the  Romans  wept  with  pity  at  the  affecting  entreaties  oi 


CAMILLUS. 


288 

the  Sutrians,  he  determined  not  to  defer  his  revenge,  but  tc 
march  to  Sutrium  that  very  day;  concluding  that  men  who 
had  just  taken  an  opulent  city,  where  they  had  not  left  one 
enemy,  and  who  expected  none  from  any  other  quarter, 
would  be  found  in  disorder  and  off  their  guard.  Nor  was  he 
mistaken  in  his  judgment.  He  not  only  passed  through  the 
country  undiscovered,  but  approached  the  gates  and  got  pos¬ 
session  of  the  walls  before  they  were  aware.  Indeed  there 
was  none  to  guard  them;  for  all  were  engaged  in  festivity  and 
dissipation.  Nay,  even  when  they  perceived  that  the  enemy 
were  masters  of  the  town,  they  were  so  overcome  by  their 
indulgences,  that  few  endeavoured  to  escape;  they  were  either 
slain  in  their  houses,  or  surrendered  themselves  to  the  con 
querors.  Thus  the  city  of  Sutrium  being  twice  taken  in  one 
day,  the  new  possessors  were  expelled,  and  the  old  ones  re¬ 
stored,  by  Camillus. 

By  the  triumph  decreed  him  on  this  occasion,  he  gained  no 
less  credit  and  honour  than  by  the  two  former.  For  those  of 
the  citizens  that  envied  him,  and  were  desirous  to  attribute 
his  successes  rather  to  fortune  than  to  his  valour  and  conduct, 
were  compelled,  by  these  last  actions,  to  allow  his  great  abili¬ 
ties  and  application.  Among  those  that  opposed  him,  and 
detracted  from  his  merit,  the  most  considerable  was  Marcus 
Manlius,  who  was  the  first  that  repulsed  the  Gauls,  when  they 
attempted  the  Capitol  by  night,  and  on  that  account  was  sur- 
named  Cnpiiolinus .  He  was  ambitious  to  be  the  greatest  man 
in  Rome;  and  as  he  could  not  by  fair  means  outstrip  Camillus 
in  the  race  of  honour,  he  took  the  common  road  to  absolute 
power,  by  courting  the  populace,  particularly  those  that  were 
in  debt.  Some  of  the  latter  he  defended,  by  pleading  their 
causes  against  their  creditors:  and  others  he  rescued,  forcibly 
preventing  their  being  dealt  with  according  to  law:  so  that  he 
got  a  number  of  indigent  persons  about  him,  who  became 
formidable  to  the  patricians  by  their  insolent  and  riotous  be- 
navlour  in  the  jorum . 

In  this  exigency  they  appointed  Cornelius  Cossus*  dictator, 
who  named  Titus  Quintius  Capitolinus  his  general  of  horse; 
and  by  this  supreme  magistrate  Manlius  was  committed  to 
prison.  On  which  occasion  the  people  went  into  mourning; 
a  thing  never  used  but  in  time  of  great  and  public  calamities. 
The  senate,  therefore,  afraid  of  an  insurrection,  ordered  him 
to  be  released.  But  when  set  at  liberty,  instead  of  altering 
his  conduct,  he  grew  more  insolent  and  troublesome,  and  filled 
the  whole  city  with  faction  and  sedition.  At  that  time  Camil 
bis  was  again  created  a  military  tribune,  and  Manlius  taker- 


*  Vide  Liv .  lib.  vi.  cap  2. 


CAMILLUS. 


289 


and  brought  to  his  trial.  But  the  sight  of  the  Capitol  was  a 
great  disadvantage  to  those  that  carried  on  the  impeachment. 
The  place  where  Manlius  by  night  maintained  the  fight  against 
the  Gauls,  was  seen  from  the  forum ;  and  all  that  attended  were 
moved  with  compassion  at  his  stretching  out  his  hands  to¬ 
wards  that  place,  and  begging  them  with  tears  to  remember 
his  achievements.  The  judges  of  course  were  greatly  em¬ 
barrassed,  and  often  adjourned  the  court,  not  choosing  to  ac¬ 
quit  him  after  such  clear  proofs  of  his  crime,  nor  yet  able  to 
carry  the  laws  into  execution  in  a  place  which  continually  re 
minded  the  people  of  his  services.  Camillus,  sensible  of  this, 
removed  the  tribunal  without  the  gate,  into  the  Peteline 
Grove,  where  there  was  no  prospect  of  the  Capitol.  There 
the  prosecutor  brought  his  charge;  and  the  remembrance  of 
his  former  bravery  gave  way  to  the  sense  which  his  judges 
had  of  his  present  crimes.  Manlius,  therefore,  was  condemn¬ 
ed,  carried  to  the  Capitol,  and  thrown  headlong  from  the  rock 
Thus  the  same  place  was  the  monument  both  of  his  glory  and 
his  unfortunate  end.  The  Romans,  moreover,  razed  his  house, 
and  built  there  a  temple  to  the  goddess  Moneta.  They  decreed 
likewise,  that  for  the  future  no  patrician  should  ever  dwell  ir 
the  Capitol.* 

Camillus,  who  was  now  nominated  military  tribune  the 
sixth  time,  declined  that  honour.  For,  besides  that  he  was 
of  an  advanced  age,  he  was  apprehensive  of  the  effects  ol 
envy,  and  of  some  change  of  fortune,  after  so  much  glory  and 
success.  But  the  excuse  he  most  insisted  on  in  public,  was 
the  state  of  his  health,  which  at  that  time  was  infirm.  The 
people,  however,  refusing  to  accept  of  that  excuse,  cried  out, 
u  They  did  not  desire  him  to  fight,  either  on  horseback  or  on 
foot;  they  only  wanted  his  counsel  and  his  orders.  Thus  they 
forced  him  to  take  the  office  upon  him,  and,  together  with 
Lucius  Furius  MedulHnus,  one  of  his  colleagues,  to  march 
immediately  against  the  enemy.” 

*  Lest  the  advantageous  situation  of  a  fortress,  that  commanded  the. 
whole  city,  should  suggest  and  facilitate  the  design  of  enslaving  it.  For 
Manlius  was  accused  of  aiming  at  the  sovereign  power.  His  fate  may  serve, 
as  a  warning  to  all  ambitious  men  who  want  to  rise  on  the  ruins  of  their 
country;  for  he  could  not  escape  or  find  mercy  with  the  people,  though  he 
produced  above  four  hundred  plebeians,  whose  debts  he  had  paid;  though 
ne  showed  thirty  suits  of  armour  the  spoils  of  thirty  enemies,  whom  he  had 
slain  in  single  combat;  though  he  had  received  forty  honorary  rewards, 
among  which  were  two  mural  and  eight  civic  crowns  (C.  Servilius,  when 
general  of  the  horse,  being  of  the  number  of  citizens  whose  lives  he  had 
saved;)  and  though  he  had  crowned  all  with  the  preservation  of  the  Capi¬ 
tol.  So  inconstant,  however,  is  tlie  multitude,  that  Manlius  was  scarce 
dead,  when  his  loss  was  generally  lamented,  and  a  plague,  which  soon  fol¬ 
lowed,  ascribed  to  the  anger  of  Jupiter  against  the  authors  of  his  death. 

V^r..  t. - 2  Q  '  2 f>* 


290 


CAMILLE'S. 


These  were  the  people  of  Prseneste  and  the  Volsci,  whc 
with  a  considerable  army  were  laying  waste  the  country  in 
alliance  with  Rome.  Camillus,  therefore,  went  and  encamped 
over  against  them,  intending  to  prolong  the  war,  that  if  there 
should  be  any  necessity  for  a  battle,  he  might  be  sufficiently 
recovered  to  do  his  part.  But  as  his  colleague  Lucius,  too 
ambitious  of  glory,  was  violently  and  indiscreetly  bent  uoon 
lighting,  and  inspired  the  other  officers  with  the  same  ardour, 
he  was  afraid  it  might  be  thought  that  through  envy  he  with¬ 
held  from  the  young  officers  the  opportunity  to  distinguish 
themselves.  For  this  reason  he  agreed,  though  with  great 
reluctance,  that  Lucius  should  draw  out  the  forces,  whilst  he, 
on  account  of  his  sickness,'*  remained  with  a  handful  of  men 
in  the  camp.  But  when  he  perceived  that  Lucius,  who  en¬ 
gaged  in  a  rash  and  precipitate  manner,  was  defeated,  and  the 
Romans  put  to  flight,  he  could  not  contain  himself,  but  leaped 
from  his  bed,  and  went  with  his  retinue  to  the  gates  of  the 
camp.  There  he  forced  his  way  through  the  fugitives  up  to 
the  pursuers,  and  made  so  good  a  stand,  that  those  who  had 
fled  to  the  camp  soon  returned  to  the  charge,  and  others  that 
were  retreating  rallied  and  placed  themselves  about  him,  ex¬ 
porting  each  other  not  to  forsake  their  general.  Thus  the 
enemy  were  stopt  in  the  pursuit.  Next  day  he  marched  out 
at  the  head  of  his  army,  entirely  routed  the  confederates  in  a 
pitched  battle,  and  entering  their  camp  along  with  them,  cut 
most  of  them  in  pieces. 

After  this,  being  informed  that  Satricum,  a  Roman  colony 
was  taken  by  the  Tuscans,  and  the  inhabitants  put  to  the 
sword,  he  sent  home  the  main  body  of  his  forces,  which  con¬ 
sisted  of  the  heavy-armed,  and  with  a  select  band  of  light 
and  spirited  young  men  fell  upon  the  Tuscans  that  were  in 
possession  of  the  city,  some  of  whom  he  put  to  the  sword,  and 
the  rest  were  driven  out. 

Returning  to  Rome  with  great  spoils,  he  gave  a  signal  evi¬ 
dence  of  the  good  sense  of  the  Roman  people,  who  entertained 
no  fears  on  account  of  the  ill  health  or  age  of  a  general  that, 
was  not  deficient  in  courage  or  experience;  but  made  choice 
of  him,  infirm  and  reluctant  as  he  was,  rather  than  of  those 
young  men  who  wanted  and  solicited  the  command.  Hence 
it  was,  that  upon  the  news  of  the  revolt  of  the  Tusculans,  Ca- 
millus  was  ordered  to  march  against  them,  and  to  take  with 
him  only  one  of  his  five  colleagues.  Though  they  all  desired 
and  made  interest  for  the  commission,  yet,  passing  the  rest 
by,  he  pitched  upon  Lucius  Furius,  contrary  to  the  general 


*  Livy  says,  he  placed  himself  on  an  eminence,  with  a  co*ps  de  reserve, 
•o  observe  the  success  of  the  battle. 


CAMILLUS. 


29] 


expectation;  for  this  was  the  man  who  but  just  before,  against 
the  opinion  of  Camillus,  was  so  eager  to  engage,  and  lost  the 
battle.  Yet  willing,  it  seems,  to  draw  a  veil  over  his  misfor¬ 
tune,  and  to  wipe  off  his  disgrace,  he  was  generous  enough  to 
give  him  the  preference.* 

When  the  Tusculans  perceived  that  Camillus  was  coming 
against  them,  they  attempted  to  correct  their  error  by  artful 
management.  They  filled  the  fields  v/i'h  husbandmen  and 
shepherds,  as  in  time  of  profound  peace;  they  left  their  gates 
open,  and  sent  their  children  to  school  as  before.  The  trades¬ 
men  were  found  in  their  chops  employed  in  their  respective 
callings,  and  the  better  sort  of  citizens  walking  in  the  public 
places  in  their  usual  dress.  Meanwhile  the  magistrates  were 
busily  passing  to  and  fro,  tc  order  quarters  for  the  Romans; 
as  if  they  expected  no  danger,  and  were  conscious  of  no  fault. 
Though  these  arts  could  not  alter  the  opinion  Camillus  had  of 
their  revolt,  yet  their  repentance  disposed  him  to  compassion 
He  ordered  them,  therefore,  to  go  to  the  senate  of  Rome  and 
beg  pardon;  and  when  they  appeared  there  as  suppliants,  he 
used  his  interest  to  procure  their  forgiveness,  and  a  grant  of 
the  privileges  of  Roman  citizenst  besides.  These  were  the 
principal  actions  of  his  sixth  tribuneship. 

After  this,  Licinius  Stolo  raised  a  great  sedition  in  the  state, 
putting  himself  at  the  head  of  the  people,  who  insisted  that  of 
the  two  consuls  one  should  be  a  plebeian.  Tribunes  of  the 
people  were  appointed,  but  the  multitude  would  suffer  no 
election  of  consuls  to  be  held.  J  As  this  want  of  chief  magis- 

*  This  choice  of  Camillas  hud  a  different  motive  from  what  Plutarch  men 
tions.  He  knew  that  Furius,  who  had  felt  the  ill  effects  of  a  precipitate 
conduct,  would  be  the  first  mat  to  avoid  such  a  conduct  for  the  future. 

f  He  was  only  a  Roman  citizen,  in  the  most  extensive  signification  of  the 
words,  who  had  a  right  of  having  a  house  in  Rome,  of  giving  his  vote  in  the 
Comitia,  and  of  standing  candidate  for  any  office;  and  who,  consequently, 
was  incorporated  into  one  of  the  tribes.  The  freed-men  in  the  times  of  the 
republic  were  excluded  from  dignities;  and  of  the  municipal  towns  and  Ro¬ 
man  colonics,  which  enjoyed  the  right  of  citizenship,  some  had,  and  some 
had  not,  the  right  of  suffrage,  and  of  promotion  to  offices  in  Rome. 

f  This  confusion  lasted  five  years,  during  which  the  tribunes  of  the  peo¬ 
ple  prevented  the  Ccimtia.  from  being  held,  which  were  necessary  for  the 
election  of  the  chief  magistrates.  It  was  occasioned  by  a  trifling  accident. 
Fabius  Ambustus  having  married  his  eldest  daughter  to  Servius  Sulpicius,  a 
patrician,  and  at  this  time  military  tribune,  and  the  younger  to  Licinius  Stolo, 
a  lich  piebeian,  it  happened  that  while  the  younger  sister  was  paying  a  visi 
to  the  elder,  Sulpicius  came  home  from  the  forum,  and  his  lictors,  with  the 
staff  of  the  fasces,  thundered  at  the  door.  The  younger  sister  being  fright¬ 
ened  at  the  noise,  the  elder  laughed  at  her,  as  a  person  quite  ignorant  of 
high  life.  This  affront  greatly  afflicted  her;  and  her  father,  to  comfort  her, 
bid  her  not  be  uneasy,  for  she  should  soon  see  as  much  state  at  herownhou«e 
us  had  surprised  her  at  her  s’.ster’s. 


292 


CAMILLUS. 


trate-s  was  likely  to  bring  on  still  greater  troubles,  the  senate 
created  Camillus  dictator  the  fourth  time,  against  the  consent 
of  the  people,  and  not  even  agreeable  to  his  own  inclination:* 
for  he  was  unwilling  to  set  himself  against  those  persons,  who, 
having  been  often  led  on  by  him  to  conquest,  could  with  great 
truth  affirm,  that  he  had  more  concern  with  them  in  the  mili¬ 
tary  way,  than  with  the  patricians  in  the  civil;  and  at  the  same 
time  was  sensible  that  the  envy  of  those  very  patricians  in¬ 
duced  them  now  to  promote  him  to  that  high  station,  that  he 
might  oppress  the  people  if  he  succeeded,  or  be  ruined  by  them 
if  he  failed  in  his  attempt.  He  attempted,  however,  to  obvi¬ 
ate  the  present  danger;  and  as  he  knew  the  day  on  which  the 
tribunes  intended  to  propose  their  law,  he  published  a  general 
muster,  and  summoned  the  people  from  the  forum  into  the 
field,  threatening  to  set  heavy  fines  upon  those  that  should  not 
obey.  On  the  other  hand,  the  tribunes  of  the  people  opposed 
him  with  menaces,  solemnly  protesting  they  would  fine  him 
fifty  thousand  drachmas  if  he  did  not  permit  the  people  to  put 
their  bill  to  the  vote.  Whether  it  was  that  he  was  afraid  of 
a  second  condemnation  and  banishment,  which  would  but  ill 
suit  him,  now  he  was  growing  old  and  covered  with  glory,  or 
whether  he  thought  he  could  not  get  the  better  of  the  people, 
whose  violence 'was  equal  to  their  power,  for  the  present  he 
retired  to  his  own  house,  and  soon  after,  under  pretence  of 
sickness,  resigned  the  dictatorship^  The  senate  appointed 
/another  dictator,  who,  having  named  for  his  general  of  horse 
that  very  Stolo,  who  was  leader  of  the  sedition,  suffered  a  law 
to  be  made  that  was  extremely  disagreeable  to  the  patricians. 
It  provided  that  no  person  whatsoever  should  possess  more 
than  five  hundred  acres  of  land.  Stolo  having  carried  his  point 
with  the  people,  flourished  greatly  for  a  while;  but  not  long 
after  being  convicted  of  possessing  more  than  the  limited  num¬ 
ber  of  acres,  he  suffered  the  penalties  of  his  own  law.  J 
The  most  difficult  part  of  the  dispute,  and  that  which  they 
began  with,  namely,  concerning  the  election  of  consuls,  re¬ 
mained  still  unsettled,  and  continued  to  give  the  senate  great 
uneasiness,  when  certain  information  was  brought  that  the 
Gauls  were  marching  again  from  the  coasts  of  the  Adriatic, 
with  an  immense  army,  towards  Rome.  With  this  news  came 
an  account  of  the  usual  effects  of  war,  the  country  laid  waste, 
and  such  of  the  inhabitants  as  could  not  take  refuge  in  Rome 


*  The  year  of  Rome  388. 

j-  He  pretended  to  find  something  amiss,  in  the  auspices  which  were  taken 
when  he  was  appointed. 

t  It  was  eleven  years  after.  Popilius  Laenas  fined  him  ten  thousand  ses¬ 
terces  for  being  possessed  of  a  thousand  acres  of  land,  in  conjunction  with 
his  son,  whom  h^  had  emancipated  for  that  purpose. — Liv.  lib.  vii.  c.  16. 


CAMILLUS. 


293 


dispersed  about  the  mountains.  The  terror  of  this  put  a  stop 
to  the  sedition;  and  the  most  popular  of  the  senators  uniting 
with  the  people,  with  one  voice  created  Camillus  dictator  the 
fifth  time.  He  was  now  very  old,  wanting  little  of  fourscore; 
yet,  seeing  the  necessity  and  danger  of  the  times,  he  was  will¬ 
ing  to  risk  all  inconveniences,  and,  without  alleging  any  ex 
cuse,  immediately  took  upon  him  the  command,  and  made  the 
levies.  As  he  knew  the  chief  force  of  the  barbarians  lay  in 
their  swords,  which  they  managed  without  art  or  skill,  furi¬ 
ously7  rushing  in,  and  aiming  chiefly  at  the  head  and  shoulders, 
he  furnished  most  of  his  men  with  helmets  of  well-polished 
iron,  that  the  swords  might  either  break  or  glance  aside;  and 
round  the  borders  of  their  shields  he  drew  a  plate  of  brass,  be 
cause  the  wood  of  itself  could  not  resist  the  strokes.  Beside 
this,  he  taught  them  to  avail  themselves  of  long  pikes,  by 
pushing  with  which  they  might  prevent  the  effect  of  the  ene¬ 
my’s  swords. 

When  the  Gauls  were  arrived  at  the  river  Anio  with  their 
army,  encumbered  with  the  vast  booty  they 'had  made,  Camil¬ 
lus  drew  out  his  forces,  and  posted  them  upon  a  hill  of  easy 
ascent,  in  which  were  many  hollows,  sufficient  to  conceal  the 
greatest  part  of  his  men,  while  those  that  were  in  sight  should 
seem,  through  fear,  to  have  taken  advantage  of  the  higher 
grounds.  And  the  more  to  fix  this  opinion  in  the  Gauls,  he 
opposed  not  the  depredations  committed  in  his  sight,  but  re¬ 
mained  quietly  in  the  camp  he  had  fortified,  while  he  had  be¬ 
held  part  of  them  dispersed  in  order  to  plunder,  and  part  in 
dulging  themselves,  day  and  night,  in  drinking  and  revelling. 
At  last,  he  sent  out  the  light-armed  infantry  before  day,  to 
prevent  the  enemy’s  drawing  up  in  a  regular  manner,  and  to 
harass  them  by  sudden  skirmishing  as  they  issued  out  of  their 
trenches;  and  as  soon  as  it  was  light  he  led  down  the  heavy 
armed,  and  put  them  in  battle  array  upon  the  plain,  neither 
few  in  number  nor  disheartened,  as  the  Gauls  expected,  but 
numerous  and  full  of  spirits. 

This  was  the  first  thing  that  shook  their  resolution,  for  they 
considered  it  as  a  disgrace  to  have  the  Romans  the  aggressors. 
Then  the  light-armed,  falling  upon  them  before  they  could 
get  into  order,  and  rank  themselves  by  companies,  pressed 
them  so  warmly,  that  they  were  obliged  to  come  in  great  con¬ 
fusion  to  the  engagement.  Last  of  all,  Camillus  leading  on 
the  heavy-armed,  the  Gauls  with  brandished  swords  hastened 
to  fight  hand  to  hand;  but  the  Romans  meeting  the  strokes 
with  their  pikes,  and  receiving  them  on  that  part  that  was 
guarded  with  iron,  so  turned  their  swords,  which  were  thin 
and  soft  tempered,  that  they  were  soon  bent  almost  double, 
ind  their  shields  were  pierced  and  weighed  down  with  the 


294 


CAMILLUS. 


pikes  that  stuck  in  them.  They  therefore  quitted  their  own 
arms,  and  endeavoured  to  seize  those  of  the  enemy,  and  tc 
wrest  their  pikes  from  them.  The  Romans  seeing  them  naked, 
now  began  to  make  use  of  their  swords,  and  made  great  car¬ 
nage  among  the  foremost  ranks.  Mean  time  the  rest  took  to 
flight,  and  were  scattered  along  the  plain;  for  Camillus  had 
beforehand  secured  the  heights;  and,  as  in  confidence  of  vic¬ 
tory  they  had  left  their  camp  unfortified,  they  knew  it  would 
be  taken  with  ease. 

This  battle  is  said  to  have  been  fought  thirteen  years  aftei 
the  taking  of  Rome;'*  and,  in  consequerce  of  this  success,  the 
Romans  laid  aside,  for  the  future,  the  dismal  apprehensions 
they  had  entertained  of  the  barbarians.  They  had  imagined, 
it  seems,  that  the  former  victory  they  had  gained  over  the 
Gauls,  was  owing  to  the  sickness  that  prevailed  in  their  army, 
and  to  other  unforeseen  accidents,  rather  than  to  their  own 
valour;  and  so  great  had  their  terror  been  formerly,  that  they 
had  made  a  law, — 4  6  That  the  priests  should  be  exempted  from 
military  service,  except  in  case  of  an  invasion  from  the 
Gauls.” 

This  was  the  last  of  Camillus’s  martial  exploits;  for  the  tak 
ing  of  Velitrse  was  a  direct  consequence  of  this  victory,  and 
it  surrendered  without  the  least  resistance.  But  the  greatest 
conflict  he  ever  experienced  in  the  state  still  remained;  for  the 
people  were  harder  to  deal  with  since  they  returned  victori¬ 
ous,  and  they  insisted  that  one  of  the  consuls  should  be  cho¬ 
sen  out  of  their  body,  contrary  to  the  present  constitution. 
The  senate  opposed  them,  and  would  not  suffer  Camillus  to 
resign  the  dictatorship,  thinking  they  could  better  defend  the 
rights  of  the  nobility  under  the  sanction  of  his  supreme  au¬ 
thority.  But  one  day,  as  Camillus  was  sitting  in  the  forum, 
and  employed  in  the  distribution  of  justice,  an  officer,  sent  by 
the  tribunes  of  the  people,  ordered  him  to  follow  him,  and 
laid  his  hand  upon  him,  as  if  he  would  seize  and  carry  him 
away.  Upon  this,  such  a  noise  and  tumult  was  raised  in  the 
assembly,  as  never  had  been  known;  those  that  were  about 
Camillus  thrusting  the  plebeian  officer  down  from  the  tribunal, 
and  the  populace  calling  out  to  drag  the  dictator  from  his  seat. 
In  this  case  Camillus  was  much  embarrassed;  he  did  not,  how¬ 
ever,  resign  the  dictatorship,  but  led  off  the  patricians  to  the 
senate-house.  Before  he  entered  it,  he  turned  towards  the 
Capitol,  and  prayed  to  the  gods  to  put  a  happy  end  to  the 
present  disturbances,  solemnly  vowing  to  build  a  temple  to 
Concord,  when  the  tumult  should  be  over. 


*  This  battle  was  fought,  not  thirteen,  b  it  t  venty-three  years  after  the 
taking  of  home 


CAMILLUS. 


293 


Ill  the  senate  there  was  a  diversity  of  opinions  and  great  de 
bates.  Mild  and  popular  councils,  however,  prevailed,  which 
allowed  one  of  the  consuls  to  be  a  plebeian.*  When  the  dic¬ 
tator  announced  this  decree  to  the  people,  they  received  it 
with  great  satisfaction,  as  it  was  natural  they  should;  they 
were  immediately  reconciled  to  the  senate,  and  conducted  Ca- 
millus  home  with  great  applause.  Next  day  the  people  assem¬ 
bled,  and  voted  that  the  temple  which  Camillus  had  vowed  to 
Concord,  should,  on  account  of  this  great  event,  be  built  on 
a  spot  that  fronted  the  forum  and  place  of  assembly.  To  those 
feasts  which  are  called  Latin  they  added  one  day  more,  so  that 
the  whole  was  to  consist  of  four  days;  and  for  the  present  they 
ordained  that  the  whole  people  of  Rome  should  sacrifice  with 
garlands  on  their  heads.  Camillus  then  held  an  assembly  for 
the  election  of  consuls,  when  Marcus  iEmilius  was  chosen  out 
of  the  nobility,  and  Lucius  Sextius  from  the  commonalty,  the 
first  plebeian  that  ever  attained  that  honour. 

This  was  the  last  of  Camillus’s  transactions.  The  year  fol¬ 
lowing  a  pestilence  visited  Rome,  which  carried  off  a  prodi¬ 
gious  number  of  the  people,  most  of  the  magistrates,  and  Ca¬ 
millus  himself.  His  death  could  not  be  deemed  premature,  on 
account  of  his  great  age  and  the  offices  he  had  borne,  yet  was 
he  more  lamented  than  all  the  rest  of  the  citizens  who  died  of 
that  distemper. 

*  The  people  having  gained  this  point,  the  consulate  was  revived,  and  the 
military  tribuneship  laid  aside  forever;  but  at  the  same  time  the  patricians 
procured  the  great  privilege,  that  a  new  officer,  called  praetor,  should  be  ap¬ 
pointed,  who  was  to  be  always  one  of  their  body.  The  consuls  had  been 
generals  of  the  Roman  armies,  and  at  the  same  time  judges  of  civil  affairs; 
but  as  they  were  often  in  the  field,  it  was  thought  proper  to  separate  the  lat¬ 
ter  branch  from  their  office,  and  appropriate  it  to  a  judge  with  the  title  of 
praetor ,  who  was  to  be  next  in  dignity  to  the  consuls.  About  the  year  of 
Rome  501,  another  praetor  was  appointed  to  decide  the  differences  among 
foreigners.  Upon  the  taking  of  Sicily  and  Sardinia  two  more  praetors  were 
created,  and  as  many  more  upon  the  conquest  of  Spain. 


TUB 


LIFE  OF  PERICLES, 


When  Ca?sar  happened  to  see  some  strangers  at  Rome  car* 
tying  young  dogs  and  monkeys  in  their  arms,  and  fondly  ca¬ 
ressing  them,  he  asked, — Whether  the  women  in  their 
country  never  bore  any  children?’5  thus  reproving,  with  a  pro¬ 
per  severity,  those  who  lavish  upon  brutes  that  natural  ten¬ 
derness  which  is  due  only  to  mankind.  In  the  same  manner 
we  must  condemn  those  who  employ  that  curiosity  and  love  of 
knowledge,  which  nature  has  implanted  in  the  human  soul, 
upon  low  and  worthless  objects,  while  they  neglect  such  as  are 
excellent  and  useful.  Our  senses,  indeed,  by  an  effect  almost 
mechanical,  are  passive  to  the  impression  of  outward  objects, 
whether  agreeable  or  offensive;  but  the  mind,  possessed  of  a 
self-directing  power,  may  turn  its  attention  to  whatever  it 
thinks  proper.  It  should,  therefore,  be  employed  in  the  most 
useful  pursuits,  not  barely  in  contemplation,  but  in  such  con¬ 
templation  as  may  nourish  its  faculties;  for  as  that  colour  is 
best  suited  to  the  eye,  which  by  its  beauty  and  agreeableness 
at  the  same  time  both  refreshes  and  strengthens  the  sight,  so 
the  application  of  the  mind  should  be  directed  to  those  sub 
jects  which,  through  the  channel  of  pleasure,  may  lead  us  to 
our  proper  happiness.  Such  are  the  works  of  virtue.  The 
very  description  of  these  inspires  us  with  emulation,  and  a 
strong  desire  to  imitate  them;  whereas,  in  other  things,  admi¬ 
ration  does  not  always  lead  us  to  imitate  what  we  admire,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  while  we  are  charmed  with  the  work,  we  of¬ 
ten  despise  the  workman.  Thus  we  are  pleased  with  perfumes 
and  purple,  while  dyers  and  perfumers  appear  to  us  in  the 
light  of  mean  mechanics. 

Antisthenes,*  therefore,  when  he  was  told  that  I^menias 
played  excellently  upon  the  flute,  answered  properly  enough, 
“  Then  he  is  good  tor  nothing  else,  otherwise  he  would  not 
have  played  so  well.55  Such  also  was  Philip’s  saying  to  his 
son,  when,  at  a  certain  entertainment  he  sang  in  a  very  agreea- 

*  Antisthenes  v/as  a  disciple  of  Socrates,  and  founder  of  the  sect  of  tlic 
Cynics. 


PERICLES. 


29? 


ble  and  skilful  manner,  “Are  you  not  ashamed  to  sing  sc 
well?”  It  is  enough  for  a  prince  to  bestow  a  vacant  hour  up 
on  hearing  others  sing;  and  he  does  the  Muses  sufficient  ho 
nour,  if  he  attends  the  performances  of  those  who  excel  in 
their  arts. 

If  a  man  applies  himself  to  servile  or  mechanic  employ¬ 
ments.  his  industry  in  those  things  is  a  proof  of  his  inatten¬ 
tion  to  nobler  studies.  No  young  man  of  noble  birth,  or  li 
ceral  sentiments,  from  seeing  the  Jupiter  at  Pisa,  would  de 
sire  to  be  Phidias,  or  from  the  sight  of  the  Juno  at  Argos,  to 
be  Polycletus;  or  Anacreon,  or  Philemon,  or  Archilochus, 
though  delighted  with  their  poems;*  for  though  a  work  may 
be  agreeable,  yet  esteem  of  the  author  is  not  the  necessary  con¬ 
sequence.  \\  e  may,  therefore,  conclude,  that  things  of  this 
kind,  which  excite  not  a  spirit  of  emulation,  nor  produce  any 
strong  impulse  or  desire  to  imitate  them,  are  of  little  use  to 
the  beholders.  But  virtue  has  this  peculiar  property,  that  at 
the  same  time  that  we  admire  her  conduct,  we  long  to  copy 
the  example.  The  goods  of  fortune  we  wish  to  enjoy,  virtue 
we  desire  to  practise;  the  former  we  are  glad  to  receive  from 
others,  the  latter  we  are  ambitious  that  others  should  receive 
from  us.  The  beauty  of  goodness  has  an  attractive  power;  it 
kindles  in  us  at  once  an  active  principle;  it  forms  our  manners, 
and  influences  our  desires,  not  only  when  represented  in  a  liv¬ 
ing  example,  but  even  in  an  historical  description. 

For  this  reason,  we  chose  to  proceed  in  writing  the  lives  of 
great  men,  and  have  composed  this  tenth  book,  which  contains, 
the  life  of  Pericles,  and  that  of  Fabius  Maximus,  who  carried 
on  the  war  against  Hannibal;  men  who  resembled  each  other 
in  many  virtues,  particularly  in  justice  and  moderation,  and 
who  effectually  served  their  respective  commonwealths,  by 
patiently  enduring  the  injuries  and  capricious  treatment  they  re¬ 
ceived  from  their  colleagues  and  their  countrymen.  Whether 
we  are  right  in  our  judgment  or  not,  will  be  easy  to  see  in  the 
work  itself. 

Pericles  was  of  the  tribe  of  Acamantis,  and  of  the  ward  of 
Cholargia.  His  family  was  one  of  the  most  considerable  in 
Athens,  both  by  the  father  and  mother’s  side.  His  father 
Xanthippus,  who  defeated  the  king  of  Persia’s  generals  at 
Mycale,  married  Agariste,  the  niece  of  Clisthenes,  who  ex 

*  This  seems  to  be  somewhat  inconsistent  with  that  respect  and  esteem 
in  which  the  noble  arts  of  poetry  and  sculpture  were  held  in  ancient  Greece 
and  Rome,  and  with  that  admiration  which  the  proficients  in  those  arts  al¬ 
ways  obtain  among  the  people.  But  there  was  still  a  kind  of  jealousy  be¬ 
tween  the  poets  and  philosophers;  and  our  philosophical  biographer  shows 
pretty  clearly,  by  the  Platonic  parade  of  this  introduction,  that  he  would 
magnify  the  latter  at  the  expense  of  the  former. 

Vol.  I. - 9  R  27 


298 


vehicles. 


pelled  the  family  of  Pisistratus,  abolished  the  tyranny,  enact¬ 
ed  laws,  and  established  a  form  of  government,  tempered  ir» 
such  a  manner  as  tended  to  unanimity  among  the  people,  and 
the  safety  of  the  state.  She  dreamed  that  she  was  delivered 
of  a  lion,  and  a  few  days  after  brought  forth  Pericles.  His 
person  in  other  respects  was  well  turned,  but  his  head  was  dis- 
proportionably  long.  For  this  reason  almost  all  his  statues 
have  the  head  covered  with  a  helmet,  the  statuaries  choosing, 
I  suppose,  to  hide  that  defect.  But  the  Athenian  poets  call 
him  Schinocephalus,  or  onion-head ,  for  the  word  schinos  is  some¬ 
times  used  instead  of  scilla,  a  sea-onion.  Cratinus,  the  comic 
writer,  in  his  play  called  Chirones ,  has  this  passage: — 

Faction  received  old  Time  to  her  embraces; 

Hence  came  a  tyrant-spawn,  on  earth  called  Pericles, 

In  heaven  the  head-comp eller. 

And  again,  in  his  Nemesis ,  he  thus  addresses  him; — 

Come,  blessed  Jove,*  the  high  and  mighty  head. 

The  friend  of  hospitality! 

And  Teleclides  says, — 

Now,  in  a  maze  of  thought,  he  ruminates 
On  strange  expedients,  while  his  head ,  depressed 
With  its  own  weight,  sinks  on  his  knees;  and  now 
From  the  vast  caverns  of  his  brain  burst  forth 
Storms  and  fierce  thunders. 

And  Eupolis,  in  his  Demi,  asking  news  of  all  the  great  orators, 
whom  he  represented  as  ascending  from  the  shades  below 
when  Pericles  comes  up  at  last,  cries  out, — 

Head  of  the  tribes  that  haunt  those  spacious  realms. 

Does  he  ascend ? 

Most  writers  agree,  that  the  master  who  taught  him  music 
was  called  Damon,  the  first  syllable  of  whose  name,  they  tell 
us,  is  to  be  pronounced  short;  but  Aristotle  informs  us,  that 
he  learned  that  art  of  Pythoclides.  As  for  Damon,  he  seems 
to  have  been  a  politician,  who  under  the  pretence  of  teaching 
music,  concealed  his  great  abilities  from  the  vulgar;  and  be 

*  Pericles  (as  Plutarch  afterwards  observes)  was  called  Olympius ,  or  Ju¬ 
piter.  The  poet  here  addresses  him  under  that  character  with  the  epithet 
of  picuLdLpi,  which  signifies  blessed,  but  may  also  signify  great-headed.  In  our 
language  we  have  no  word  with  such  a  double  meaning.  Just  above,  he  ia 
called  Cephalegereies,  head-comp  eller  (as  if  his  head  was  an  assemblage  of 
many  heads),  instead  of  Nephelegerctes,  cloud-compeller,  a  common  epithet 
af  Jupiter. 


PERICLES. 


299 


attended  Pericles  a.s  his  tutor  and  assistant  in  politics,  in  tne 
same  manner  as  a  master  of  the  gymnastic  art  attends  a  young 
man  to  lit  him  for  the  ring.  However,  Damon’s  giving  les¬ 
sons  upon  the  harp  was  discovered  to  be  a  mere  pretext,  and, 
as  a  busy  politician,  and  friend  to  tyranny,  he  was  banished 
by  the  ostracism.  Nor  was  he  spared  by  the  comic  poets.  One 
of  them  named  Plato,  introduces  a  person  addressing  him 
thus; — 

Inform  me,  Damon,  first,  does  fame  say  true. 

And  wast  thou  really  Pericles’s  Chiron?* 

Pericles  also  attended  the  lectures  of  Zeno  of  Elea,t  who,  m 
natural  philosophy,  was  a  follower  of  Parmenides,  and  who, 
by  much  practice  in  the  art  of  disputing,  had  learned  to  con¬ 
found  and  silence  all  his  opponents,  as  Timon  the  Phlasian 
declares  in  these  verses: — 

Have  not  you  heard  of  Zeno’s  mighty  powers. 

Who  could  change  sides,  yet  changing  triumph’d  still 
In  the  tongue’s  wars  ? 

But  the  philosopher  with  whom  he  was  most  intimately  ac  • 
quainted,  who  gave  him  that  force  and  sublimity  of  sentiment 
superior  to  all  the  demagogues,  who,  in  short,  formed  him  to 
that  admirable  dignity  of  manners,  was  Anaxagoras  the  Clazo- 
menian.  This  was  he  whom  the  people  of  those  times  called 
nous ,  or  intelligence ,  either  in  admiration  of  his  great  under¬ 
standing  and  knowledge  of  the  works  of  nature,  or  because 
he  was  the  first  who  clearly  proved  that  the  universe  owed  its 
formation  neither  to  chance  nor  necessity,  but  to  a  pure  and 
unmixed  mind ,  who  separated  the  homogeneous  parts  from  the 
other  with  which  they  were  confounded. 

Charmed  with  the  company  of  this  philosopher,  and  instruct¬ 
ed  by  him  in  the  sublimest  sciences,  Pericles  acquired  not  only 
elevation  of  sentiment,  and  a  loftiness  and  purity  of  style, 

*  The  word  Chiron,  again,  is  ambiguous,  and  may  either  signify,  wast  thou 
preceptor  to  Pericles?  or,  wast  thou  more  wicked  than  Pericles? 

f  This  Zeno  was  of  Elea,  a  town  of  Italy,  and  a  Phocian  colony,  and  must 
be  carefully  distinguished  from  Zeno,  the  founder  of  the  sect  of  the  Stoics. 
The  Zeno  here  spoken  of  was  respectable  for  attempting  to  rid  his  country 
of  a  tyrant.  The  tyrant  took  him,  and  caused  him  to  be  pounded  to  death 
in  a  mortar.  But  his  death  accomplished  what  he  could  not  effect  in  his 
lifetime;  for  his  fellow  citizens  w^ere  so  much  incensed  at  the  dreadful  man¬ 
ner  of  it,  that  they  fell  upon  the  tyrant  and  stoned  him.  As  to  his  arguments, 
and  those  of  his  master  Parmenides,  pretended  to  be  so  invincible,  one  of 
them  was  to  prove  there  can  be  no  such  thing  as  motion,  since  a  thing  can 
neither  move  in  the  place  w  here  it  is,  nor  in  the  place  w  here  it  is  not.  But 
this  sophism  is  easily  refuted;  for  motion  is  the  passing  of  n  thing  or  person 
irJo  a  new  part  of  space. 


PERICLES. 


300 

far  removed  from  the  low  expression  of  the  vulgar,  but  like¬ 
wise  a  gravity  of  countenance  which  relaxed  not  into  laughter, 
a  firm  and  even  tone  of  voice,  an  easy  deportment,  and  a  de¬ 
cency  of  dress,  which  no  vehemence  of  speaking  ever  put  into 
disorder.  These  things,  and  others  of  the  like  nature,  excited 
admiration  in  all  that  saw  him 

Such  was  his  i  onduct,  when  a  vile  and  abandoned  fellow 
loaded  him  a  whole  day  with  reproaches  and  abuse,  he  bore 
it  with  patience  and  silence,  and  continued  in  public  for  the 

31  atch  of  some  urgent  affairs.  In  the  evening  he  walked 
y  home,  this  impudent  wretch  following,  and  insulting 
him  all  the  way  with  the  most  scurrilous  language;  and  as  it 
was  dark  when  he  came  to  his  own  doGr,  he  ordered  one  of 
his  servants  to  take  a  torch  and  light  the  man  home.  The  poet 
Ion,  however,  says  he  was  proud  and  supercilious  in  conver¬ 
sation,  and  that  there  was  a  great  deal  of  vanity  and  contempt 
of  others  mixed  with  his  dignity  of  manner;  on  the  other 
hand,  he  highly  extols  the  civility,  complaisance,  and  polite¬ 
ness  of  Cimon.  But  to  take  no  farther  notice  of  Ion,  who, 
perhaps,  would  not  have  any  great  excellence  appear  without 
a  mixture  of  something  satirical,  as  it  was  in  the  ancient  tra¬ 
gedy;*  Zeno  desired  those  that  called  the  gravity  of  Pericles 
pride  and  arrogance,  to  be  proud  the  same  way;  telling  them, 
the  very  acting  of  an  excellent  part  might  insensibly  produce 
a  love  and  real  imitation  of  it. 

These  were  not  the  only  advantages  which  Pericles  gained 
by  conversing  with  Anaxagoras.  From  him  he  learned  to 
overcome  those  terrors  which  the  various  phenomena  of  the 
heavens  raise  in  those  who  know  not  their  causes,  and  who 
entertain  a  tormenting  fear  of  the  gods  by  reason  of  that  igno¬ 
rance.  Nor  is  there  any  cure  for  it  but  the  study  of  nature, 
which,  instead  of  the  frightful  extravagances  of  superstition, 
implants  in  us  a  sober  piety,  supported  by  a  rational  hope. 

We  are  told,  there  was  brought  to  Pericles,  from  one  of  his 
farms,  a  ram’s  head  with  only  one  horn;  and  Lampo  the  sooth¬ 
sayer,  observing  that  the  horn  grew  strong  and  firm  out  of  the 
middle  of  the  forehead,  declared,  that  the  two  parties  in  the 
state,  namely,  those  of  Thucydides  and  Pericles,  would  unite, 

*  Tragedy  at  first  was  only  a  chorus  in  honour  of  Bacchus.  Persons  dress 
cd  like  satyrs  were  the  performers,  and  they  often  broke  out  into  the  most 
licentious  raillery.  Afterwards,  when  tragedy  took  a  graver  turn,  something 
of  the  former  drollery  was  still  retained,  as  in  that  which  we  call  tragi-come- 
clv.  In  time,  serious  characters  and  events  became  the  subject  of  tragedy, 
without  that  mixture;  but  even  then,  after  exhibiting  three  or  four  serious 
tragedies,  the  poets  used  to  conclude  their  contention  for  the  prize  with  a 
satirical  one.  Of  this  sort  is  the  Cycle  ps  of  Euripides,  and  the  only  one  re¬ 
maining. 


PERICLES. 


301 


and  invest  the  whole  power  in  him  with  wnom  the  prodigy 
was  found:  but  Anaxagoras  having  dissected  the  head,  showed 
that  the  brain  did  not  till  the  whole  cavity,  but  had  contracted 
itself  into  an  oval  form,  and  pointed  directly  to  that  part  of 
the  skull  whence  the  horn  took  its  rise.  This  produced  Anaxa 
goras  great  honour  with, the  spectators;  and  Lampo  was  no 
less  honoured  for  his  prediction,  when  soon  after,  upon  the 
fall  of  Thucydides  the  administration  was  put  entirely  into 
the  hands  of  Pericles. 

But,  in  my  opinion,  the  philosopher  and  the  diviner  may 
well  enough  be  reconciled,  and  both  be  right;  the  one  disco¬ 
vering  the  cause,  and  the  other  the  end.  It  was  the  business 
of  the  former  to  account  for  the  appearance,  and  to  consider 
how  it  came  about;  and  of  the  latter  to  show  why  it  was  so 
formed,  and  what  it  portended. — Those  who  say,  that  when 
the  cause  is  found  out,  the  prodigy  ceases,  do  rot  consider, 
that  if  they  reject  such  signs  as  are  preternatural,  they  must 
also  deny  that  artificial  signs  are  of  any  use;  the  clattering  of 
brass  quoits,*  the  light  of  beacons,  and  the  shadow  of  a  sun¬ 
dial,  have  all  of  them  their  proper  natural  causes,  and  yet 
each  has  another  signification.  But,  perhaps,  this  question 
might  be  more  properly  discussed  in  another  place. 

Pericles,  in  his  youth,  stood  in  great  fear  of  the  people;  for 
in  his  countenance  he  was  like  Pisistratus  the  tyrant;  and  he 

Eerceived  the  old  men  were  much  struck  with  a  farther  resem- 
lance  in  the  swreetness  of  his  voice,  the  volubility  of  his 
tongue  and  the  roundness  of  his  periods.  As  he  was  more¬ 
over  of  a  noble  family  and  opulent .  fortune,  and  his  friends 
were  the  most  considerable  men  in  the  state,  he  dreaded  the 
ban  of  ostracism,  and,  therefore,  intermeddled  not  with  state 
affairs,  but  behaved  with  great  courage  and  intrepidity  in  the 
field.  However,  when  Aristides  was  dead,  Themistocles  ba¬ 
nished,  and  Cimon  much  employed  in  expeditions  at  a  dis¬ 
tance  from  Greece,  Pericles  engaged  in  the  administration. 
He  chose  rather  to  solicit  the  favour  of  the  multitude  and  the 
poor,t  than  of  the  rich  and  the  few,  contrary  to  his  natural 

*  The  clattering1  of  brass  quoits,  or  plates,  was  sometimes  a  military  signal 
among  the  Grecians.  Among  the  Romans  it  was  a  signal  to  call  the  wrest¬ 
lers  to  the  ring. 

f  The  popular  party  in  Athens  were  continually  making  efforts  against 
those  small  remains  of  power  which  were  yet  in  the  hands  of  the  nobility. 
As  Pericles  could  not  lead  the  party  of  the  nobles,  because  Cimon,  by  the  dig¬ 
nity  of  his  birth,  the  lustre  of  his  actions,  and  the  largeness  of  his  estate,  had 
placed  himself  at  their  head,  he  had  no  other  resource  than  to  court  the  po¬ 
pulace.  And  he  flattered  their  favourite  passion  in  the  most  agreeable  man¬ 
ner  by  lessening  the  power  and  privileges  of  the  court  of  Areopagus,  which 
was  the  chief  support  of  the  nobility,  and,  indeed,  of  the  whole  state.  Thus 
the  bringing  of  almost  all  causes  before  the  tribunal  of  the  people,  the  mul* 


302 


PERICLES. 


disposition,  whhli  was  far  from  inclining  him  to  court  popu¬ 
larity. 

It  seems  he  was  apprehensive  of  falling  under  the  suspicion 
of  aiming  at  the  supreme  power,  and  was  sensible,  besides, 
that  Cimon  was  attached  to  the  nobility,  and  extremely  belov¬ 
ed  by  persons  of  the  highest  eminence;  and,  therefore,  in  or¬ 
der  to  secure  himself,  and  to  find  resources  against  the  power 
of  Cimon,  he  studied  to  ingratiate  himself  with  the  common 
people.  At  the  same  time,  he  entirely  changed  his  manner 
of  living.  He  appeared  not  in  the  streets,  except  when  he 
went  to  the  forum  or  the  senate-house.  He  declined  the  in¬ 
vitations  of  his  friends,  and  all  social  entertainments  and  re¬ 
creations;  insomuch,  that  in  the  whole  time  of  his  adminis¬ 
tration,  which  was  a  considerable  length,  he  never  went  to  sup 
with  any  of  his  friends,  but  once,  which  was  at  the  marriage 
of  his  nephew  Euryptolemus,  and  he  staid  there  only  until 
the  ceremony  of  libation  was  ended.  He  considered,  that  the 
freedom  of  entertainments  takes  away  all  distinction  of  office, 
and  that  dignity  is  but  little  consistent  with  familiarity.  Real 
and  solid  virtue,  indeed,  the  more  it  is  seen,  the  more  glori¬ 
ous  it  appears;  and  there  is  nothing  in  a  good  man’s  conduct, 
as  a  magistrate,  so  great  in  the  eye  of  the  public,  as  is  the  gen¬ 
eral  course  of  his  behaviour  in  private  to  his  most  intimate 
friends.  Pericles,  however,  took  care  not  to  make  his  person 
cheap  among  the  people,  and  appeared  among  them  only  at 
proper  intervals;  nor  did  he  speak  to  all  points  that  were  de¬ 
bated  before  them,  but  reserved  himself,  like  the  Salaminian 
galley*  (as  Critolaiis  says),  for  greater  occasions,  despatching 
business  of  less  consequence  by  other  orators  with  whom  he 
had  an  intimacy.  One  of  these  we  are  told,  was  Ephialtes, 
who,  according  to  Plato,  overthrew  the  power  of  the  council 
of  Areopagus,  by  giving  the  citizens  a  large  and  intemperate 
draught  of  liberty.  On  which  account,  the  comic  writers 
speak  of  the  people  of  Athens,  as  of  a  horse  wild  and  unman- 
aged,— 

- which  listens  to  the  reigns  no  more, 

But  in  his  maddening  course  bears  headlong  down 

The  very  friends  that  feed  him.f 

tiplying  of  gratuities,  which  was  only  another  word  for  bribes,  and  the  giv¬ 
ing  the  people  a  taste  for  expensive  pleasures,  caused  the  downfall  of  the 
Athenian  commonwealth;  though  the  personal  abilities  of  Pericles  support¬ 
ed  it  during  his  time. 

*  The  Salaminian  galley  was  a  consecrated  vessel,  which  the  Athenians 
never  made  use  of,  but  on  extraordinary  occasions.  They  sent  it,  for  in¬ 
stance,  for  a  general  whom  they  wanted  to  call  to  account,  or  with  sacrifices 
to  Apollo  or  some  other  deity. 

•j-  The  former  English  translator  takes  no  manner  of  notice  of  <fouosir  tv 
'ZvQoia.v  kcu  roue  vnaoie  rrmiSctv,  bites  Euboea,  and  insults  the  islands ,  though  the 


PERICLES. 


303 


Pericles,  desirous  to  make  his  language  a  proper  vehicle  for 
his  sublime  sentiments,  and  to  speak  in  a  manner  that  became 
the  dignity  of  his  life,  availed  himself  greatly  of  what  he  had 
learned  of  Anaxagoras,  adorning  his  eloquence  with  the  rich 
colours  of  philosophy;  for,  adding  (as  the  divine  Plato  ex¬ 
presses  it)  the  loftiness  of  imagination,  and  all  commanding 
energy,  with  which  philosophy  supplied  him,  to  his  native 
powers  of  genius,  and  making  use  of  whatever  he  found  to  his 

Kose,  in  the  study  of  nature,  to  dignify  the  art  of  speaking, 
r  excelled  all  other  orators.*  Hence  he  is  said  to  have 
gained  the  surname  of  Olympias;  though  some  will  have  it  to 
have  been  from  the  edifices  with  which  he  adorned  the  city; 
and  others,  from  his  high  authority  both  in  peace  and  war. 
There  appears,  indeed,  no  absurdity  in  supposing,  that  all 
these  things  might  contribute  to  that  glorious  distinction.  Yet 
the  strokes  of  satire,  both  serious  and  ludicrous,  in  the  come 
dies  of  those  times,  indicate,  that  this  title  was  given  him 
chiefly  on  account  of  his  eloquence;  for  they  tell  us,  that 
in  his  harangues,  he  thundered  and  lightened,  and  that  his 
tongue  was  armed  with  thunder.  Thucydides,  the  son  of  Mi- 
lesius,  is  said  to  have  given  a  pleasant  account  of  the  force  of 
his  eloquence.  Thucydides  was  a  great  and  respectable  man, 
who,  for  a  long  time,  opposed  the  measures  of  Pericles;  and 
when  Archidamus,  one  of  the  kings  of  Lacedaemon,  asked 
him,. — “  Which  was  the  best  wrestler,  Pericles,  or  he?”  he 
answered,  “  When  I  throw  him,  he  says  he  was  never  down, 
and  he  persuades  the  very  spectators  to  believe  so.” 

Yet  such  was  the  solicitude  of  Pericles,  when  he  had  to 
speak  in  public,  that  he  always  first  addressed  a  prayer  to  the 
gods,t — “  That  not  a  word  might  unawares  escape  him  un¬ 
suitable  to  the  occasion  ”  He  left  nothing  in  writing,  but 
some  public  decrees;  and  only  a  few  of  his  sayings  are  record¬ 
ed.  He  used  to  say  (for  instance)  that  “the  isle  of  iEgina 
should  not  be  suffered  to  remain  an  eye-sore  to  the  Piraeus;’ 
and  that, — “he  saw  a  war  approaching  from  Peloponnesus.” 
And  when  Sophocles,  who  went  in  joint  command  with  him 
upon  an  expedition  at  sea,  happened  to  praise  the  beauty  of  a 
certain  boy,  he  said, — “A  general,  my  friend,  should  not 

passage  is  pregnant  with  sense.  Athens,  in  the  wantonness  of  power,  in 
suited  Euboea,  which  was  her  granary,  and  the  iEgian  islands,  which  con 
tributed  greatly  to  her  commerce  and  her  wealth. 

*  Plato  observes,  on  the  same  occasion,  that  an  orator,  as  well  as  a  physi 
cian,  ought  to  have  a  general  knowledge  of  nature. 

f  Quintilian  says,  he  prayed,  that  not  a  word  might  escape  him  disagreea 
ble  to  the  people.  And  this  is  the  more  probable  account  of  the  matter 
because  (according  to  Suidas)  Pericles  wrote  down  his  orations,  before  he 
pronounced  them  in  publ;c;  and,  indeed,  was  the  first  who  did  so. 


304 


PERICLES. 


only  have  pure  hands,  but  pure  e)res.”  Stesimbrotus  pro¬ 
duces  this  passage  from  the  oration  which  Pericles  pronounced 
in  memory  of  those  Athenians  who  fell  in  the  Samian  war,--- 
“They  are  become  immortal,  like  the  gods;  for  the  gods 
themselves  are  not  visible  to  us;  but  from  the  honours  they 
receive,  and  the  happiness  they  enjoy,  we  conclude  they  are 
immortal-  and  such  should  those  brave  men  be  who  die  for 
their  country.*' 

Thucydides  represents  the  administration  of  Pericles  as  fa¬ 
vouring  aristocracy,  and  tells  us,  that,  though  the  government 
was  called  democratical,  it  was  really  in  the  hands  of  one  who 
had  engrossed  the  whole  authority. — Many  other  writers  like¬ 
wise  inform  us,  that  by  him  the  people  were  first  indulged 
with  a  division  of  lands,  were  treated  at  the  public  expense 
with  theatrical  diversions,  and  were  paid  for  the  most  com¬ 
mon  services  to  the  state.  As  this  new  indulgence  from  the 
government  was  an  impolitic  custom,  which  rendered  the  peo- 

f)le  expensive  and  luxurious,  and  destroyed  that  frugality  and 
ove  of  labour  which  supported  them  before,  it  is  proper  that 
we  should  trace  the  effect  to  its  cause,  by  a  retrospect  into  the 
circumstances  of  the  republic. 

At  first,  as  we  have  observed,  to  raise  himself  to  some  sort 
of  equality  with  Cimon,  who  was  then  at  the  height  of  glory, 
Pericles  made  his  court  to  the  people.  And  as  Cimon  was 
his  superior  in  point  of  fortune,  which  he  employed  in  reliev 
ing  the  poor  Athenians,  in  providing  victuals  every  day  for 
the  necessitous,  and  clothing  the  aged,  and,  besides  this,  level¬ 
ed  his  fences  with  the  ground,  that  all  might  be  at  liberty  tc 
gather  his  fruit,  Pericles  had  recourse  to  the  expedient  of  di¬ 
viding  the  public  treasure;  which  scheme,  as  Aristotle  informs 
us,  was  proposed  to  him  by  Demonides  of  Ios.  *  Accordingly, 
by  supplying  the  people  with  money  for  the  public  diversions, 
and  for  their  attendance  in  courts  of  judicature;!  and  by  othei 
pensions  and  gratuities,  he  so  inveigled  them  as  to  avail  him¬ 
self  of  their  interest  against  the  council  of  the  Areopagus,  of 
which  he  had  no  right  to  be  a  member,  having  never  had  the 
fortune  to  be  chosen  Archon,  Thesmothetes,  king  of  the  Sa¬ 
cred  Rights,  or  Polemarch.  For  persons  were  of  old  appoint  ¬ 
ed  to  these  offices  by  lot;  and  such  as  had  discharged  them 

*  Ios  was  one  of  the  isles  called  Sporades,  in  the  JEg*ean  sea,  and  celebra. 
ted  for  the  tomb  of  Homer.  But  some  learned  men  are  of  opinion,  that 
instead  of  Jadw,  we  should  read  O/vSsy,  and  that  Demonides  was  not  of  the 
island  of  Ios,  but  of  Oia,  which  was  a  boroug'h  in  Attica. 

j-  There  were  several  courts  of  judicature  in  Athens,  composed  of  a  cer¬ 
tain  number  of  the  citizens;  who  sometimes  received  one  obolus  each  fot 
every  cause  they  tried:  and  sometimes  men  who  aimed  at  popularity,  pm 
cured  this  fee  to  be  increased. 


PERICLES. 


305 


well,  and  such  only,  were  admitted  as  judges  in  the  Areopa¬ 
gus.  Pericles,  therefore,  by  his  popularity,  raised  a  party 
against  that  council,  and,  by  means  of  Ephialtes,  to  ah  from 
them  the  cognizance  of  many  causes  that  had  been  under  their 
jurisdiction.  He  likewise  caused  Cimon  to  be  banished  by  the 
ostracism ,  as  an  enemy  to  the  people,*  and  a  friend  to  the  La¬ 
cedaemonians;  a  man  who  in  birth  and  fortune  had  no  superior, 
who  had  gained  very  glorious  victories  over  the  barbarians, 
and  filled  the  city  with  money  and  other  spoils,  as  we  have 
related  in  his  life.  Such  was  the  authority  of  Pericles  with 
the  common  people. 

The  term  of  Cimon’s  banishment,  as  it  was  by  ostracism % 
was  limited  by  law  to  ten  years.  Mean  time  the  Lacedacmo 
nians,  with  a  great  army,  entered  the  territory  of  Tanagra, 
and  the  Athenians  immediately  marching  out  against  them, 
Cimon  returned,  and  placed  himself  in  the  ranks  with  those  of 
his  tribe,  intending  by  his  deeds  to  wipe  off  the  aspersion  of 
favouring  the  Lacedaemonians,  and  to  venture  his  life  with  his 
countrymen;  but  by  a  combination  of  the  friends  of  Pericles, 
he  was  repulsed  as  an  exile.  This  seems  to  have  been  the 
cause  that  Pericles  exerted  himself  in  a  particular  manner  in 
that  battle,  and  exposed  his  person  to  the  greatest  dangers. 
All  Cimon’s  friends,  whom  Pericles  had  accused  as  accom¬ 
plices  in  his  pretended  crime,  fell  honourably  that  day  toge¬ 
ther;  and  the  Athenians,  who  were  defeated  upon  their  own 
borders,  and  expected  a  still  sharper  conflict  in  the  summer, 
grievously  repented  of  their  treatment  of  Cimon,  and  longed 
tor  his  return.  Pericles,  sensible  of  the  people’s  inclinations, 
did  not  hesitate  to  gratify  them,  but  himself  proposed  a  decree 
for  recalling  Cimon;  and,  at  his  return,  a  peace  was  agreed 
upon  through  his  mediation;  for  the  Lacedaemonians  had  a 
particular  regard  for  him,  as  well  as  aversion  for  Pericles,  and 
the  other  demagogues.  But  some  authors  write,  that  Pericles 
did  not  procure  an  order  for  Cimon’s  return,  till  they  had  en¬ 
tered  into  a  private  compact,  by  means  of  Cimon’s  sister  El- 
piniee,  that  Cimon  should  have  the  command  abroad,  and  with 
two  hundred  galleys  lay  waste  the  king  of  Persia’s  dominions, 
and  Pericles  have  the  direction  of  affairs  at  home.  A  story 
goes,  that  Elpinice,  before  this,  had  softened  the  resentmenl 
of  Pericles  against  Cimon,  and  procured  her  brother  a  milder 


*  His  treason  against  the  state  was  pretended  to  consist  in  receiving  pro 
sents  or  other  gratifications  from  the  Macedonians,  whereby  lie  was  prevail 
ed  on  to  let  slip  the  opportunity  he  had  to  enlarge  the  Athenian  conquests, 
after  he  had  taken  the  gold  mines  of  Thro.ce. — Cimon  answered,  that  he  had 
prosecuted  the  war  to  the  utmost  of  his  power  against  the  Thracians  anc 
their  other  enemies;  but  that  he  had  made  no  inroads  into  Macedonia,  be¬ 
cause  he  did  not  conceive,  that  he  was  to  act  as  a  public  enemy  to  mankind 

VOL.  T  - 2  S 


306 


PERICLES. 


sentence  than  that  of  death.  Pencles  was  one  of  those  ap¬ 
pointed  by  the  people  to  manage  the  impeachment;  and  when 
Eloinice  addressed  him  as  a  suppliant,  he  smiled,  and  said, — 
“  ^ou  are  old,  Elpinice;  much  too  old  to  solicit  in  so  weighty 
affair.  ”  However.,  he  rose  up  but  once  to  speak,  barely  to 
acquit  himself  of  his  trust,  and  did  not  bear  so  hard  upon 
Cimon  as  the  rest  of  his  accusers.*  Who  then  can  give  credit 
to  Idomeneus,  when  he  says  that  Pericles  caused  the  orator 
Ephialtes,  his  friend  and  assistant  in  the  administration,  to  be 
assassinated  through  jealousy  and  envy  of  his  great  character? 
1  know  not  where  he  met  with  this  calumny,  which  he  vents 
with  great  bitterness  against  a  man,  not  indeed  in  all  respect? 
irreproachable,  but  who  certainly  had  such  a  greatness  of 
mind,  and  high  sense  of  honour,  as  was  incompatible  with  an 
action  so  savage  and  inhuman.  The  truth  of  the  matter,  ac¬ 
cording  to  Aristotle,  is,  that  Ephialtes  being  grown  formida¬ 
ble  to  the  nobles,  on  account  of  his  inflexible  severity  in  prose¬ 
cuting  all  that  invaded  the  rights  of  the  people,  his  enemies 
caused  him  to  be  taken  off  in  a  private  and  treacherous  man¬ 
ner,  by  Aristodicus  of  Tanagra. 

About  the  same  time  died  Cimon,  in  the  expedition  to  Cy¬ 
prus.  And  the  nobility  perceiving  that  Pericles  was  now  ar¬ 
rived  at  a  height  of  authority  which  set  him  far  above  the  other 
citizens,  were  desirous  of  having  some  person  to  oppose  him, 
who  might  be  capable  of  g  iving  a  check  to  his  power,  and  of 
preventing  his  making  himself  absolute.  F or  this  purpose  they 
set  up  Thucydides  of  the  ward  of  Alopece,  a  man  of  great  pru¬ 
dence,  and  brother-in-law  to  Cimon.  He  had  not,  indeed, 
Cimon’s  talents  for  wTar,  hut  was  superior  to  him  in  forensic 
and  political  abilities;  and,  by  residing  constantly  in  Athens, 
and  opposing  Pericles  in  th«:  general  assembly,  he  soon  brought 
the  government  to  an  equilibrium.  For  he  did  not  suffer  per¬ 
sons  of  superior  rank  to  be  dispersed  and  confounded  with  the 
rest  of  the  people,  because  in  that  case,  their  dignity  was  ob¬ 
scured  and  lost;  but  collected  them  into  a  separate  body,  by 
which  means  their  authority  was  enhanced,  and  sufficient 
weight  thrown  into  their  scale.  There  wTas,  indeed,  from  the 
beginning,  a  kind  of  doubtful  separation,  which,  like  the  flaws 
in  a  piece  of  iron,  indicated  that  the  aristocratical  party,  and 
that  of  the  commonalty .  were  not  perfectly  one,  though  they 
were  not  actually  divided;  but  the  ambition  of  Pericles  and 
Thucydides,  and  the  contest  between  them,  had  so  extraordi¬ 
nary  an  effect  upon  the  city,  that  it  was  quite  broken  in  two, 
and  one  of  the  parts  wTas  called  the  people ,  and  the  other  the  no 


*  Yet  Civaonwas  fined  fifty  talents,  or  £968 7  10s.  sterling*,  and  narrow!) 
es.  aped  a  capital  senter.ee,  having*  only  a  majority  of  three  votes  to  prevent  4 


PERICI.ES. 


307 


bility.  For  this  reason,  Pericles,  more  than  ever,  gave  the 
people  the  reins,  and  endeavoured  to  ingratiate  himself  with 
them,  contriving  to  have  always  some  show,  or  play,  or  feast 
or  procession  in  the  city,  and  to  amuse  it  with  the  politest 
pleasures. 

As  another  means  of  employing  their  attention,  he  sent  out 
sixty  gallevs  every  year  manned  for  eight  months,'*  with  a 
considerable  number  of  the  citizens,  who  were  both  paid  for 
their  service,  and  improved  themselves  as  mariners.  He  like¬ 
wise  sent  a  colony  of  a  thousand  men  to  the  Chersonesus,  five 
hundred  to  Naxos,  two  hundred  and  fifty  to  Andros,  a  thou¬ 
sand  into  the  country  of  the  Bisaltae  in  Thrace,  and  others 
into  Italy,  who  settled  in  Sybaris,  and  changed  its  name  to 
Thurii.  These  things  he  did  to  clear  the  city  of  an  useless 
multitude,  who  were  very  troublesome  when  they  had  nothing 
to  do;  to  make  provision  for  the  most  necessitous;  and  to  keep 
the  allies  of  Athens  in  awe,  by  placing  colonies  like  so  many 
garrisons  in  their  neighbourhood. 

That  which  was  the  chief  delight  of  the  Athenians,  and  the 
wonder  of  strangers,  and  which  alone  serves  for  a  proof  that 
the  boasted  power  and  opulence  of  ancient  Greece  is  not  an 
idle  tale,  was  the  magnificence  of  the  temples  and  public  edi¬ 
fices.  Yet  no  part  of  the  conduct  of  Pericles  moved  the  spleen 
of  his  enemies  more  than  this.  In  their  accusations  of  him  to 
the  people,  they  insisted, — “  That  he  had  brought  the  greatest 
disgrace  upon  the  Athenians,  by  removing  the  public  treasures 
of  Greece  from  Delos,  and  taking  them  into  his  own  custody. 
That  he  had  not  left  himself  even  the  specious  apology  of 
having  caused  the  money  to  be  brought  to  Athens  for  its 
greater  security,  and  to  keep  it  from  being  seized  by  the  bar¬ 
barians:  That  Greece  must  needs  consider  it  as  the  highest 
insult,  and  an  act  of  open  tyranny,  when  she  saw  the  money 
she  had  been  obliged  to  contribute  towards  the  war,  lavished 
by  the  Athenians  in  gilding  their  city,  and  ornamenting  it 
with  statues  and  temples  that  cost  a  thousand  talents,!  as  a 
proud  and  vain  woman  decks  herself  out  with  jewels.”  Peri¬ 
cles  answered  this  charge  by  observing, — 6k  That  they  were 
not  obliged  to  give  the  allies  any  account  of  the  sums  they  had 
received,  since  they  had  kept  the  barbarians  at  a  distance,  and 
effectually  defended  the  allies,  who  had  not  furnished  either 
horses,  ships,  or  men,  but  only  contributed  money,  which  is 
no  longer  the  property  of  the  giver,  but  of  the  receiver,  if  he 

*  Some,  instead  of  /u.»vctg,  read  ^yac;  and,  according*  to  this  reading*,  the 

passage  must  be  translated,  manned  with - the  citizens ,  whose  pay  ruts 

eight  mmacy  and  who  at  the  same  time  improved ,  &c. 

j- The  Parthenon,  or  temple  of  Mil  erva,  is  said  to  have  c.«sl  a  thousand 
talents. 


308 


PERICLES. 


performs  the  conditions  on  which  it  is  received:  That  as  the 
state  was  provided  with  all  the  necessaries  of  war,  its  superflu¬ 
ous  wealth  should  be  laid  out  on  such  works  as,  when  executes, 
would  be  eternal  monuments  of  its  glory,  and  which,  during 
their  execution,  would  diffuse  an  universal  plenty;  for  as  so 
many  kinds  of  labour,  and  such  a  variety  of  instruments  ana 
materials,  were  requisite  to  these  undertakings,  every  art 
would  be  exerted,  every  hand  employed,  almost  the  whole 
city  would  be  in  pay,  and  be  at  the  same  time  both  adorned 
and  supported  by  itself.”  Indeed,  such  as  were  of  a  proper 
age  and  strength  were  wanted  for  the  wars,  and  well  rewarded 
for  their  services;  and  as  for  the  mechanics  and  meaner  sort  of 
people,  they  went  not  without  their  share  of  the  public  mo 
ney,  nor  yet  had  they  it  to  support  them  in  idleness.  By  the 
constructing  of  great  edifices,  which  required  many  arts"  and 
a  long  time  to  finish  them,  they  had  equal  pretensions  to  be 
considered  out  of  the  treasury  (though  they  stirred  not  out  of 
the  city)  with  the  mariners  and  soldiers,  guards  and  garrisons 
For  the  different  materials,  such  as  stone,  brass,  ivory,  gold, 
ebony,  and  cypress,  furnished  employment  to  carpenters, 
masons,  brasiers,  goldsmiths,  painters,  turners,  and  other  ar¬ 
tificers;  the  conveyance  of  them  by  sea  employed  merchants 
and  sailors,  and  by  land  wheel-wrights,  wagoners,  carriers, 
ropemakers,  leather-cutters,  paviers,  and  iron-founders;  and 
every  art  had  a  number  of  the  lower  people  ranged  in  proper 
subordination  to  execute  it,  like  soldiers  under  the  command 
of  a  general.  Thus,  by  the  exercise  of  these  different  trades, 
plenty  was  diffused  among  persons  of  every  rank  and  condi¬ 
tion.  Thus  works  were  raised  of  an  astonishing  magnitude, 
and  inimitable  beauty  and  perfection,  every  architect  striving 
to  surpass  the  magnificence  of  the  design  with  the  elegance 
of  the  execution;  yet  still  the  most  wonderful  circumstance 
was  the  expedition  with  which  they  were  completed.  Many 
edifices,  each  of  which  seems  to  have  required  the  labour  of 
several  successive  ages,  were  finished  during  the  administra¬ 
tion  of  one  prosperous  man. 

It  is  said,  that  when  Agatharcus  the  painter  valued  himself 
upon  the  celerity  and  ease  with  which  he  despatched  his 
pieces,  Zeuxis  replied, — “If  I  boast,  it  shall  be  of  the  slow¬ 
ness  with  which  I  finish  mine.”  For  ease  and  speed  in  the 
execution  seldom  give  a  work  any  lasting  importance,  or  ex¬ 
quisite  beauty;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  time  which  is 
expended  in  labour  is  recovered  and  repaid  in  the  duration  of 
the  perfoimance.  Hence  we  have  the  more  reason  to  wondef 
that  the  structures  raised  by  Pericles  should  be  built  in  so  short 
a  time,  and  yet  built  for  ages;  for  as  each  of  them,  as  soon  as 
finished,  had  the  venerable  air  of  antiquity,  so,  now  thev  are 


PERICLES. 


309 

old,  they  have  the  freshness  of  a  modern  building.  A  bloom 
»s  diffused  over  them,  which  preserves  their  aspect  untarnish¬ 
ed  by  time,  as  if  they  were  animated  with  a  spirit  of  perpetual 
youth  and  unfading  elegance. 

Phidias  was  appointed  by  Pericles  superintendent  of  all  the 
public  edifices,  though  the  Athenians  had  then  other  eminen4 
Architects,  and  excellent  workmen.  The  Parthenon ,  or  temple 
of  Pallas,  whose  dimensions  had  been  a  hundred  feet  square,* 
was  rebuilt  by  Callicrates  and  Ictinus.  Coroebus  began  the 
lemple  of  Initiation  at  Eleusis,  but  only  lived  to  finish  the 
lower  rank  of  columns  with  their  architraves.  Metagenes,  of 
4  he  ward  of  Xypete,  added  the  rest  of  the  entablature,  and  the 
upper  row  of  columns;  and  Xenocles  of  Cholargus  built  the 
dome  on  the  top.  The  long  wall,  the  building  of  which  So¬ 
crates  says  he  heard  Pericles  propose  to  the  people,  was  un¬ 
dertaken  by  Callicrates.  Cratinus  ridicule  tins  work  as  pro¬ 
ceeding  very  slowly: 

Stones  upon  stones  the  orator  has  pil’d 

With  swelling*  words,  but  words  will  build  no  walls. 

The  Odeum ,  or  music  theatre,  which  was  likewise  built  by 
the  direction  of  Pericles,  had  within  it  many  rows  of  seats  and 
of  pillars;  the  roof  was  of  a  conic  figure,  after  the  model  (we 
are  told)  of  the  king  of  Persia’s  pavilion.  Cratinus,  therefore, 
rallies  him  again  in  his  play  called  Thrattx; 

As  Jove,  an  onion  on  his  head  he  wears; 

As  Pericles,  a  whole  orchestra  bears: 

Afraid  of  broils  and  banishment  no  more, 

He  tunes  the  shell  he  trembled  at  before! 

Pericles  at  this  time  exerted  all  his  interest  to  have  a  decree 
made,  appointing  a  prize  for  the  best  performer  in  music, 
during  the  Panatkenxa;  and  as  he  was  himself  appointed  judge 
and  distributer  of  the  prizes,  he  gave  the  contending  artists 
directions  in  what  manner  to  proceed,  whether  their  perform¬ 
ance  was  vocal,  or  on  the  lute  or  lyre  From  that  time  the 
prizes  in  music  were  always  contended  for  in  the  Odeum. 

The  vestibule  of  the  citadel  was  finished  in  five  years  by 
Mnesicles  the  architect.  A  wonderful  event  that  happened 
while  the  work  was  in  hand,  showed  that  the  goddess  was  not 
averse  to  the  work,  but  rather  took  it  into  her  protection,  and 
encouraged  them  to  complete  it.  One  of  the  best  and  most 
active  of  the  workmen  missing  his  step,  fell  from  the  top  to  the 

*  It  was  called  Uecatompedon ,  because  it  had  been  originally  a  hundred 
feet  square;  one  having  been  burnt  by  the  Persians,  it  was  rebuilt  by  Pen 
cles  and  retained  that  name  after  it  was  greatly  enlarged. 

28 


310 


PERICLES. 


bottom,  and  was  bruised  in  such  a  manner  that  his  life  was  de¬ 
spaired  of  by  the  physicians.  Pericles  was  greatly  concerned 
at  this  accident;  but  in  the  midst  of  his  affliction,  the  goddess 
appeared  to  him  in  a  dream,  and  informed  him  of  a  remedy, 
which  he  applied,  and  thereby  soon  recovered  the  patient.  In 
memory  of  this  cure,  he  placed  in  the  citadel,  near  the  altar 
(which  is  said  to  have  been  there  before),  a  brazen  statue  of 
the  Minerva  of  health .  The  golden  statue  of  the  same  goddess* 
was  the  workmanship  of  Phidias,  and  his  name  is  inscribed 
upon  the  pedestal  (as  we  have  already  observed).  Through 
the  friendship  of  Pericles,  he  had  the  direction  of  every  thing, 
and  all  the  artists  received  his  orders.  For  this  the  one  was 
envied  and  the  other  slandered;  and  it  was  intimated  that 
Phidias  received  into  his  house  ladies  for  Pericles,  who  came 
thither  under  pretence  of  seeing  his  works.  The  comic  poets 
getting  hold  of  this  story,  represented  him  as  a  perfect  liber¬ 
tine.  They  accused  him  of  an  intrigue  with  the  wife  of  Menip- 
pus,  his  friend,  and  lieutenant  in  the  army;  and  because  P^ri- 
lampes,  another  intimate  acquaintance  of  his,  had  a  collection 
of  curious  birds,  and  particularly  of  peacocks,  it  was  suppos¬ 
ed  that  he  kept  them  only  for  presents  for  those  women  who 
granted  favours  to  Pericles.  But  what  wonder  is  it  if  men  of 
a  satirical  turn  daily  sacrifice  the  characters  of  the  great  to  that 
malevolent  demon,  the  envy  of  the  multitude,  when  Stesim- 
brotus  of  Thasos  has  dared  to  lodge  against  Pericles  that  hor¬ 
rid  and  groundless  accusation  of  corrupting  his  son’s  wife?  So 
difficult  is  it  to  come  at  the  truth  in  the  walk  of  history,  since, 
if  the  writers  live  after  the  events  they  relate,  they  can  be  but 
imperfectly  informed  of  facts;  and  if  they  describe  the  persons 
and  transactions  of  their  own  times,  they  are  tempted  by  envy 
and  hatred,  or  by  interest  and  friendship,  to  vitiate  and  per¬ 
vert  the  truth. 

The  orators  of  Thucydides’s  party  raised  a  clamour  against 
Pericles,  asserting  that  he  wasted  the  public  treasure,  and 
brought  the  revenue  to  nothing.  Pericles,  in  his  defence,  ask¬ 
ed  the  people  in  full  assembly, — “Whether  they  thought  he 
had  expended  too  much?”  Upon  their  answering  in  the  af¬ 
firmative, — “Then be  it,”  said  he,  “charged  to  my  account, 1 

*  This  statue  was  of  gold  and  ivory.  Pausanias  has  given  us  a  description 
of  it.  The  goddess  was  represented  standing,  clothed  in  a  tunic  that  reach¬ 
ed  down  to  the  foot.  On  her  aegis,  or  breast-plate,  was  Medusa’s  head  in 
ivory,  and  victory.  She  held  a  spear  in  her  hand;  and  at  her  feet  lay  a  buck 
ler,  and  a  dragon,  supposed  to  be  Erichthonius.  The  sphynx  was  repre 
sented  on  the  middle  of  her  helmet,  with  a  griffin  on  each  side.  This  statue 
was  thirty-nine  feet  high;  the  victory  on  the  breast-plate  was  about  four  cu 
bits,  and  forty  talents  of  gold  were  employed  upon  it. 

f  It  appears,  from  a  oassage  in  Thucydides,  that  the  public  stock  of  the 
Athenians  amounted  to  line  thousand  seven  hundred  talents  for  one  million 


PERICLES. 


511 


not  yours,  only  let  the  new  edifices  be  inscribed  with  my  name, 
not  that  of  the  people  of  Athens.”  Whether  it  was  that  they 
admired  the  greatness  of  his  spirit,  or  were  ambitious  to  share 
the  glory  of  such  magnificent  works,  they  cried  out, — “  That 
he  might  spend  as  much  as  he  pleased  of  the  public  treasure, 
without  sparing  it  in  the  least.” 

At  last  the  contest  came  on  between  him  and  Thucydides 
which  of  them  should  be  banished  by  the  ostracism ;  Pericles 
gained  the  victory,  banished  his  adversary,  and  entirely  de¬ 
feated  his  party.  The  opposition  now  being  at  an  end,  and 
unanimity  taking  place  amongst  all  ranks  of  people,  Pericles 
became  sole  master  of  Athens  and  its  dependencies.  The 
revenues,  the  army  and  navy,  the  islands  and  the  sea,  a  most 
extensive  territory,  peopled  by  barbarians  as  well  as  Greeks, 
fortified  with  the  obedience  of  subject  nations,  the  friendship 
of  kings,  and  alliance  of  princes,  were  all  at  his  command. 

From  this  time  he  became  a  different  man;  he  was  no  longer 
so  obsequious  to  the  humour  of  the  populace,  which  is  as  wild 
and  as  changeable  as  the  winds.  The  multitude  were  not  in¬ 
dulged  or  courted;  the  government,  in  fact,  was  not  popular; 
its  loose  and  luxuriant  harmony  was  confined  to  stricter  mea¬ 
sures,  and  it  assumed  an  aristocratical,  or  rather  monarchical 
form.  He  kept  the  public  good  in  his  eye,  and  pursued  the 
straight  path  of  honour;  for  the  most  part  gently  leading  them 
by  argument  to  a  sense  of  what  was  right,  and  sometimes  for¬ 
cing  them  to  comply  with  what  was  for  their  own  advantage; 
in  this  respect  imitating  a  good  physician,  who,  in  the  various 
symptoms  of  a  long  disease,  sometimes  administers  medicines 
tolerably  agreeable,  and  at  other  times  sharp  and  strong  ones, 
when  such  alone  are  capable  of  restoring  the  patient.  He  was 
the  man  that  had  the  art  of  controlling  those  many  disorderly 
passions  which  necessarily  spring  up  amongst  a  people  possess 
ed  of  so  extensive  a  dominion.  The  two  engines  he  worked 
with  were  hope  and  fear;  with  these,  repressing  their  violence 
when  they  were  too  impetuous,  and  supporting  their  spirits 
when  inclined  to  languor,  he  made  it  appear  that  “  rhetoric  is 
(as  Plato  defined  it)  the  art  of  ruling  the  minds  of  men,”  and 
that  its  principal  province  consists  in  moving  the  passions  and 

eight  hundred  and  seventy  five  thousand  nine  hundred  and  fifty  pounds 
sterling,)  of  which  Pericles  had  laid  out  in  those  public  buildings  three  thou¬ 
sand  seven  hundred  talents.  It  is  natural,  therefore,  to  ask,  how  he  could 
tell  the  people  that  it  should  be  at  his  own  expense,  especially  since  Plu¬ 
tarch  tells  us  in  the  sequel,  that  he  had  not  in  the  least  improved  the  estate 
left  him  by  his  father!  To  which  the  true  answer  probably  is,  that  Pericles 
was  politician  enough  to  know  that  the  vanity  of  the  Athenians  would  never 
them  agree  that  he  should  inscribe  the  new  magnificent  buildings  with 
name,  in  exclusion  of  theirs;  or  he  might  venture  to  say  any  thing,  beinr* 
^  cine  of  a  majority  of  votes  to  be  given  as  he  pleased. 


312 


PERICLES 


affections  oi  the  soul,  which,  like  so  many  strings  in  a  musical 
irstrument,  require  the  touch  of  a  masterly  and  delicate  hand. 
.Nor  were  the  powers  of  eloquence  alone  sufficient,  but  (as 
Thucydides  observes)  the  orator  was  a  man  of  probity  and  un¬ 
blemished  reputation.  Money  could  not  bribe  him;  he  was 
so  much  above  the  desire  of  it,  that  though  he  added  greatly  to 
the  opulence  of  the  state,  which  he  found  not  inconsiderable, 
and  though  his  power  exceeded  that  of  many  kings  and  tyrants, 
some  of  whom  have  bequeathed  to  their  posterity  the  sove¬ 
reignty  they  had  obtained,  yet  he  added  not  one  drachma  to 
his  paternal  estate. 

Thucydides,  indeed,  gives  this  candid  account  of  the  powci 
and  authority  of  Pericles;  but  the  comic  writers  abuse  him  in 
a  most  malignant  manner,  giving  his  friends  the  name  of  the 
new  Pisistralidas ,  and  calling  upon  him  to  swear  that  he  would, 
never  attempt  to  make  himself  absolute,  since  his  authority 
was  already  much  too  great  and  overbearing  in  a  free  state. 
Teloclides  says,  the  Athenians  had  given  up  to  him 

The  tribute  of  the  states,  the  states  themselves, 

To  bind,  to  loose,  to  build,  and  to  destroy; 

In  peace,  in  war,  to  govern;  nay,  to  rule 

Their  very  fate,  like  some  superior  being. 

And  this  not  only  for  a  time,  or  during  the  prime  and  flowei 
of  a  short  administration,  but  for  forty  years  together  he  held 
the  pre-eminence,  amidst  such  men  as  Ephialtes,  Leocrates, 
Myronides,  Cimon,  Tolmides,  and  Thucydides,  and  continu¬ 
ed  it  no  less  that  fifteen  years  after  the  fall  and  banishment  of 
the  latter.  The  power  of  the  magistrates,  which  to  them  was 
but  annual,  all  centred  in  him,  yet  still  he  kept  himself  un¬ 
tainted  by  avarice.  Not  that  he  was  inattentive  to  his  finances, 
but  on  the  contrary,  neither  negligent  of  his  paternal  estate, 
nor  yet  willing  to  have  much  trouble  with  it:  as  he  had  not 
much  time  to  spare,  he  brought  the  management  of  it  into  such 
a  method  as  was  very  easy,  at  the  same  time  that  it  was  exact: 
for  he  used  to  turn  a  whole  year’s  produce  into  money  alto¬ 
gether,  and  with  this  he  bought,  from  day  to  day,  all  manner 
of  necessaries  at  the  market.  This  way  of  living  was  not 
agreeable  to  his  sons  when  grown  up,  and  the  allowance  he 
made  the  women,  did  not  appear  to  them  a  generous  one. 
They  complained  of  a  pittance  daily  measured  out  with  scru¬ 
pulous  economy,  which  admitted  of  none  of  those  superfluities 
so  common  in  great  houses  and  wealthy  families,  and  could  not 
bear  to  think  of  the  expenses  being  so  nicely  adjusted  to  the 
income. 

The  person  who  managed  these  concerns  with  so  much  ex 
a»  cness  was  a  servant  of  his,  named  Evangelus,  either  remark* 


PERICLES. 


313 


oly  fitted  for  the  purpose  by  nature,  or  formed  to  it  by  Pei  i- 
cles.  Anaxagoras,  indeed,  considered  these  lower  attentions 
as  inconsistent  with  his  wisdom:  following  the  dictates  of  en¬ 
thusiasm,  and  wrapt  up  in  sublime  inquiries,  he  quitted  his 
house,  and  left  his  lands  untilled  and  desolate.  But,  in  my 
opinion,  there  is  an  essential  difference  between  a  speculative 
and  a  practical  philosopher.  The  former  advances  his  ideas 
into  the  regions  of  science  without  the  assistance  of  any  thing 
corporeal  or  external;  the  latter  endeavours  to  apply  his  great, 
qualities  to  the  use  of  mankind,  and  riches  afford  him  not  only 
necessary  but  excellent  assistance.  Thus  it  was  with  Pericles, 
who  by  his  wealth  was  enabled  to  relieve  numbers  of  the  pool 
citizens.  Nay,  for  want  of  such  prudential  regards,  this  very 
Anaxagoras,  we  are  told,  lay  neglected  and  unprovided  for, 
insomuch  that  the  poor  old  man  had  covered  up  his  head,  and 
was  going  to  starve  himself.*  But  an  account  of  it  being 
brought  to  Pericles,  he  was  extremely  moved  at  it,  ran  imme 
diately  to  him,  expostulated,  entreated,  bewailing  not  so  much 
the  fate  of  his  friend  as  his  own,  if  his  administration  should 
lose  so  valuable  a  counsellor.  Anaxagoras,  uncovering  his 
face,  replied, — u  Ah,  Pericles!  those  that  have  need  of  a  lamp 
take  care  to  supply  it  with  oil.” 

By  this  time  the  Lacedaemonians  began  to  express  some 
jealousy  of  the  Athenian  greatness,  and  Pericles,  willing  to 
advance  it  still  higher,  and  to  make  the  people  more  sensible 
af  their  importance,  and  more  inclinable  to  great  attempts,  pro¬ 
cured  an  order,  that  all  the  Greeks,  wheresoever  they  resided, 
whether  in  Europe  or  in  Asia,  whether  their  cities  were  small 
or  great,  should  send  deputies  to  Athens  to  consult  about  re¬ 
building  the  Grecian  temples  which  the  barbarians  had  burnt, 
and  about  providing  those  sacrifices  which  had  been  vow^ed 
during  the  Persian  war,  for  the  preservation  of  Greece;  and 
likewise  to  enter  into  such  measures  as  might  secure  naviga¬ 
tion  and  maintain  the  peace. 

Accordingly,  twenty  persons,  each  upwards  of  fifty  years 
of  age,  were  sent  with  this  proposal  to  the  different  states  of 
Greece.  Five  went  to  the  Ionians  and  Dorians  in  Asia,  and 
the  islanders  as  far  as  Lesbos  and  Rhodes;  five  to  the  cities 
aoout  the  Hellespont  and  in  Thrace,  as  far  as  Byzantium;  five 
to  the  inhabitants  of  Boeotia,  Phocis,  and  Peloponnesus,  and 
from  thence,  by  Locri  along  the  adjoining  continent  to  Acar- 
nati  a  and  Ambracia.  The  rest  were  despatched  through 

*  It  was  customary  among’  the  ancients  for  a  person  who  was  determined 
to  put  an  end  to  his  life  to  cover  up  his  head;  whether  he  devoted  himself  tc 
death  for  the  service  of  his  country,  or  being  weary  of  his  being,  bade  the 
svorld  adieu. 

Vol.  I. - 2T  2<S* 


314 


PERICLES. 


Euboea  to  the  Greeks  that  dwelt  upon  mount  Oetra  and  near 
the  Maliac  bay,  to  the  Phthio.tae,  the  Acheans,* * * §  and  Thessa¬ 
lians,  inviting  them  to  join  in  the  council  and  new  confede¬ 
racy  for  the  preservation  of  the  peace  of  Greece.!  It  took 
not  effect,  however,  nor  did  the  cities  send  their  deputies;  the 
reason  of  which  is  said  to  be  the  opposition  of  the  Lacedaemo¬ 
nians,!  for  the  proposal  was  first  rejected  in  Peloponnesus. 
But  I  was  willing  to  give  account  of  it  as  a  specimen  of  the 
greatness  of  the  orator’s  spirit,  and  of  his  disposition  to  form 
magnificent  designs. 

His  chief  merit  in  war  was  the  safety  of  his  measures.  He 
never  willingly  engaged  in  any  uncertain  or  very  dangerous 
expedition,  nor  had  any  ambition  to  imitate  those  generals 
who  are  admired  as  great  men,  because  their  rash  enterprises 
have  been  attended  with  success;  he  always  told  the  Athe¬ 
nians, — “That  as  far  as  their  fate  depended  upon  him,  they 
should  be  immortal.”  Perceiving  that  Tolmides,  the  son  of 
Tolmaeus,  in  confidence  of  his. former  success  and  military  re¬ 
putation,  was  preparing  to  invade  Boeotia  at  an  unseasonable 
time,  and  that,  over  and  above  the  regular  troops,  he  had  per¬ 
suaded  the  bravest  and  most  spirited  of  the  Athenian  youth, 
to  the  number  of  a  thousand,  to  go  volunteers  in  that  expedi¬ 
tion,  he  addressed  him  in  public,  and  tried  to  divert  him  from 
it,  making  use,  among  the  rest,  of  those  well-known  words, — 
“  If  you  regard  not  the  opinion  of  Pericles,  yet  wait  at  least, 
for  the  advice  of  time,  who  is  the  best  of  all  counsellors.” 
This  saying,  for  the  present,  gained  no  great  applause;  but 
when  a  few  days  after,  news  was  brought  that  Tolmides  was 
defeated  and  killed  at  Coronea,§  together  with  many  of  the 
bravest  citizens,  it  procured  Pericles  great  respect  and  love 
from  the  people,  who  considered  it  as  a  proof,  not  only  of  his 
sagacity,  but  of  his  affection  for  his  countrymen. 

Of  his  military  expeditions,  that  to  the  Chersonesus  pro 
cured  him  most  honour,  because  it  proved  very  salutary  to  the 
Greeks  who  dwelt  there;  for  he  not  only  strengthened  their 

*  Bv  Acheeans  we  are  sometimes  to  understand  the  Greeks  in  general, 
especially  in  the  writings  of  the  poets,  and  sometimes  the  inhabitants  of  a 
particular  district  in  Peloponnesus;  but  neither  of  these  can  be  the  mean¬ 
ing  in  this  place.  We  must  here  understand  a  people  of  Thessaly,  called 
Achaeans.  Vide  Stcph.  Byz.  in  voce 

f  Katv:7r£ctyia. 

±  It  is  no  wonderthat  the  Lacedemonians  opposed  this  undertaking,  since 
the  giving  way  to  it  would  have  been  acknowledging  the  Athenians  as  mis* 
ters  of  all  Greece.  Indeed,  the  Athenians  should  not  have  attempted  it 
without  an  order  or  decree  of  the  Amphictyons. 

§  This  defeat  happened  in  the  second  year  of  the  eight}r-third  Olympiad, 
four  hundred  and  forty -five  years  before  the  Christian  era,  and  more  than 
enty  years  before  the  death  of  Pericles. 


PERICLES. 


31  £ 


cities  with  the  addition  of  a  thousand  able-bodied  Athenians, 
but  iaised  fortifications  across  the  isthmus  from  sea  to  sea; 
thus  guarding  against  the  incursions  of  the  Thracians  who 
were  spread  about  the  Chersonesus,  and  putting  an  end  to 
those  long  and  grievous  wars  under  which  that  district  had 
smarted  by  reason  of  the  neighbourhood  of  the  barbarians,  as 
well  as  to  the  robberies  with  which  it  had  been  infested  by 
persons  who  lived  upon  the  borders,  or  were  inhabitants  of 
the  country.  But  the  expedition  most  celebrated  among  stran 
gers,  was  that  by  sea  around  Peloponnesus.  He  set  sail  from 
Pegae,  in  the  territories  of  Megara,  with  a  hundred  ships  of 
war,  and  not  only  ravaged  the  maritime  cities,  as  Tolmides 
had  done  before  him,  but  landed  his  forces,  and  penetrated  a 
good  way  up  the  country.  The  terror  of  his  arms  drove  the 
inhabitants  into  their  walled  towns,  all  but  the  Sicyonians, 
who  made  head  against  him  at  Nimea,  and  were  defeated  in  a 
pitched  battle,  in  memory  of  which  victory  he  erected  a  tro¬ 
phy.  From  Achaia,  a  confederate  state,  he  took  a  number  of 
men  into  his  galleys  and  sailed  to  the  opposite  side  of  the 
continent;  then  passing  by  the  mouth  of  the  Acheloiis,  he 
made  a  descent  in  Acarnania,  shut  up  the  (Eneadae  with  their 
walls,  and  having  laid  waste  the  country,  returned  home.  In 
the  whole  course  of  this  affair,  he  appeared  terrible  to  his  ene¬ 
mies,  and  to  his  countrymen  an  active  and  prudent  comman¬ 
der;  for  no  miscarriage  was  committed,  nor  did  even  any  un¬ 
fortunate  accident  happen  during  the  whole  time. 

Having  sailed  to  Pontus  with  a  large  and  well  equipped 
fleet,  he  procured  the  Grecian  cities  there  all  the  advantages 
they  desired,  and  treated  them  with  great  regard.  To  the 
barbarous  nations  that  surrounded  them,  and  to  their  kings  and 
princes,  he  made  the  power  of  Athens  very  respectable,  by 
showing  with  what  security  her  fleets  could  sail,  and  that  she 
was  in  effect  mistress  of  the  seas.  He  left  the  people  of  Si¬ 
nope  thirteen  ships  under  the  command  of  Lamachus,  and  a 
body  of  men  to  act  against  Timesileos,  their  tyrant.  And 
when  the  tyrant  and  his  party  were  driven  out,  he  caused  a 
decree  to  be  made,  that  a  colony  of  six  hundred  Athenian  vo¬ 
lunteers  should  be  placed  in  Sinope,  and  put  in  possession  of 
those  houses  and  lands  which  had  belonged  to  the  tyrants 

He  did  not,  however,  give  way  to  the  wild  desires  of  the 
citizens,  nor  would  he  indulge  them,  when,  elated  with  their 
strength  and  good  fortune,  they  talked  of  recovering  Egypt,* 

*  For  tTie  Athenians  had  been  masters  of  Egypt,  as  we  rind  in  the  second 
book  of  Thucydides.  They  were  driven  out  of  it  by  Megabyzus,  Artax- 
erxe,r  s  lieutenant,  in  the  first  year  of  the  eightieth  Olympiad,  and  it  was 
only  m  the  last  year  of  the  eighty -first  Olympiad  that  Pericles  made  that 


316 


PERICLES. 


and  of  attempting  the  coast  of  Persia.  Many  were  likewise 
at  this  time  possessed  with  the  unfortunate  passion  for  Sicily, 
which  the  orators  of  Alcibiades’s  party  afterwards  inflamed 
still  more.  Nay,  even  some  dreamed  of  Hetruria*  and  Car 
thage,  and  not  without  some  ground  of  hope,  as  they  imagin¬ 
ed,  because  of  the  great  extent  of  their  dominions  and  the 
successful  course  of  their  affairs. 

But  Pericles  restrained  this  impetuosity  of  the  citizens,  ana 
curbed  their  extravagant  desire  of  conquest;  employing  the 
greatest  part  of  their  forces  in  strengthening  and  securing  their 
present  acquisitions,  and  considering  it  as  a  matter  of  conse¬ 
quence  to  keep  the  Lacedaemonians  within  bounds;  whom  he 
therefore  opposed,  as  on  other  occasions,  so  particularly  in  the 
Sacred  War.  For  when  the  Lacedaemonians,  by  dint  of  arms, 
had  restored  the  temple  to  the  citizens  of  Delphi,  which  had 
been  seized  by  the  Phocians,  Pericles,  immediately  after  the 
departure  of  the  Lacedaemonians,  marched  thither,  and  put  it 
into  the  hands  of  the  Phocians  again.  And  as  the  Lacedae 
monians  had  engraved  on  the  forehead  of  the  brazen  wolf  the 
privilege  which  the  people  of  Delphi  had  granted  them  of 
consulting  the  oracle  first, t  Pericles  caused  the  same  privi¬ 
lege  for  the  Athenians  to  be  inscribed  on  the  wolf’s  right  side. 

The  event  showed  that  he  was  right  in  confining  the  Athe¬ 
nian  forces  to  act  within  the  bounds  of  Greece;  for,  in  the  first 
place,  the  Euboeans  revolted,  and  he  led  an  army  against  them. 
Soon  after,  news  was  brought  that  Megara  had  commenced 
hostilities,  and  that  the  Lacedaemonian  forces,  under  the  com¬ 
mand  of  king  Plistonax,  were  upon  the  borders  of  Attica. 
The  enemy  offered  him  battle;  he  did  not  choose,  however, 
to  risk  an  engagement  with  so  numerous  and  resolute  an 
army.  But  as  Plistonax  was  very  young,  and  chiefly  directed 
by  Cleandrides,  a  counsellor  whom  the  Ephori  had  appointe  1 
him  on  account  of  his  tender  age,  he  attempted  to  bribe  that 
counsellor,  and  succeeding  in  it  to  his  wish,  persuaded  him  to 
draw  off  the  Peloponnesians  from  Attica.  The  soldiers  dis¬ 
persing  and  retiring  to  their  respective  homes,  the  Lacedaemo- 

successful  expedition  about  Peloponnesus;  therefore,  it  is  not  strange  thas 
the  Athenians,  now  in  the  height  of  prosperity,  talked  of  recovering  their 
footing  in  a  country  which  they  had  so  lately  lost. 

*  Hetruria  seems  oddly  joined  with  Carthage;  but  we  may  consider  that 
Hetruria  was  on  one  side  of  Sicily,  and  Carthage  on  the  other.  The  Athe¬ 
nians,  therefore,  after  they  had  devoured  Sicily  in  their  thoughts,  might 
think  of  extending  their  conquests  to  the  countries  on  the  right  and  left;  in 
the  same  manner  as  king  Pyrrhus  indulged  his  wild  ambition  to  subdue 
Sicily,  Italy,  and  Africa. 

f  This  wolf  is  said  to  have  been  consecrated  and  placed  by  the  side  of  the 
great  altar,  on  occasion  of  a  wolf’s  killing  a  thief  who  had  robbed  the  tern 
pie,  and  leading  the  Delphians  to  the  place  where  tne  treasure  lay. 


PERICLES. 


317 


nians  were  so  highly  incensed,  that  they  laid  a  heavy  fine 
upon  the  king;  and,  as  he  was  not  able  to  pay  it,  he  withdrew 
from  Lacedaemon.  As  for  Cleandrides,  who  fled  from  justice, 
-they  condemned  him  to  death.  He  was  the  father  of  Gylip- 
pus,  who  defeated  the  Athenians  in  Sicily,  and  who  seemed 
to  have  derived  the  vice  of  avarice  from  him  as  an  hereditary 
distemper.  He  was  led  by  it  into  bad  practices,  for  which 
he  was  banished  with  ignominy  from  Sparta,  as  we  have  re¬ 
lated  in  the  life  of  Lysander. 

In  the  accounts  for  this  campaign,  Pericles  put  down  ten 
talents  laid  out  for  a  necessary  use ,  and  the  people  allowed  it, 
without  examining  the  matter  closely,  or  prying  into  the 
secret.  According  to  some  writers,  and  among  the  rest  The¬ 
ophrastus  the  philosopher,  Pericles  sent  ten  talents  every 
year  to  Sparta,  with  which  he  gained  all  the  magistracy,  and 
kept  them  from  acts  of  hostility;  not  that  he  purchased  peace 
with  the  money,  but  only  gained  time  that  he  might  have  lei¬ 
sure  to  make  preparations  to  carry  on  the  war  afterwards  with 
advantage. 

Immediately  after  the  retreat  of  the  Lacedaemonians,  he 
turned  his  arms  against  the  revolters,  and  passing  over  into 
Euboea  with  fifty  ships  and  five  thousand  men,  he  reduced  the 
cities.  He  expelled  the  Hlppobotas ,  persons  distinguished  by 
their  opulence  and  authority  among  the  Chalcidians;  and  hav¬ 
ing  exterminated  all  the  Hestiaeans,  he  gave  their  city  to  a 
colony  of  Athenians.  The  cause  of  this  severity  was  their 
having  taken  an  Athenian  ship,  and  murdered  the  whole 
crew. 

Soon  after  this,  the  Athenians  and  Lacedaemonians  having 
agreed  upon  a  truce  for  thirty  years,  Pericles  caused  a  decree 
to  be  made  for  an  expedition  against  Samos.  The  pretence 
he  made  use  of  was,  that  the  Samians,  when  commanded  to 
put  an  end  to  the  war  with  the  Milesians,  had  refused  it. 
But  as  he  seems  to  have  entered  upon  this  war  merely  to  gra¬ 
tify  Aspasia,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  inquire  by  what  art  or 
power  she  captivated  the  greatest  statesmen,  and  brought  even 
philosophers  to  speak  of  her  so  much  to  her  advantage. 

It  is  agreed  that  she  was  by  birth  a  Milesian,*  and  the 
daughter  of  Axiochus.  She  is  reported  to  have  trod  in  the 
steps  of  Thargelia,t  who  was  descended  from  the  ancient  lo- 
nians,  and  to  have  reserved  her  intimacies  for  the  great.  This 

*  Miletum,  a  city  in  Ionia,  was  famous  for  producing-  persons  of  extraor¬ 
dinary  abilities. 

-j-Tliis  Tharg-elia,  by  tier  beauty,  obtained  the  sovereignty  of  Thessaly* 
However,  she  came  to  an  untimely  end;  for  she  was  murdered  by  one  of 
her  lovers 


318 


PERICLES. 


Thargelia,  who,  to  the  charms  of  her  person,  added  a  peculiar 
politeness  and  poignant  wit,  had  many  lovers  among  fhe 
Greeks,  and  drew  over  to  the  king  of  Persia’s  interest  all  that 
approached  her;  by  whose  means,  as  they  were  persons  of  emi¬ 
nence  and  authority,  she  sowed  the  seeds  of  the  Median  fac¬ 
tion  among  the  Grecian  states. 

Some  indeed  say,  that  Pericles  made  his  court  to  Aspasia 
only  on  account  of  her  wisdom  and  political  abilities.  Nay, 
3ven  Socrates  himself  sometimes  visited  her  along  with  his 
friends;  and  her  acquaintance  took  their  wives  with  them  to 
hear  her  discourse,  though  the  business  that  supported  her 
was  neither  honourable  nor  decent,  for  she  kept  a  number  of 
courtesans  in  her  house.  iEschines  informs  us,  that  Lysicles, 
who  was  a  grazier,*  and  of  a  mean,  ungenerous  disposition, 
by  his  intercourse  with  Aspasia,  after  the  death  of  Pericles, 
became  the  most  considerable  man  in  Athens.  And  though 
Plato’s  Menexenus  in  the  beginning  is  rather  humorous  than 
serious,  yet  this  much  of  history  we  may  gather  from  it,  that 
many  Athenians  resorted  to  her  on  account  of  her  skill  in  the 
art  of  speaking.t 

I  should  not,  however,  think,  that  the  attachment  of  Peri¬ 
cles  was  of  so  very  delicate  a  kind:  for  though  his  wife,  who 
was  his  relation,  and  had  been  first  married  to  Hipponicus,  by 
whom  she  had  Callias  the  rich,  brought  him  two  sons,  Xanthip- 
pus  and  Paralus,  yet  they  lived  so  ill  together,  that  they  part 
ed  by  consent.  She  was  married  to  another,  and  he  took 
Aspasia,  for  whom  he  had  the  tenderest  regard;  insomuch, 
that  he  never  went  out  upon  business,  or  returned,  without 
saluting  her.  In  the  comedies,  she  is  called  the  New  Omphale , 
Deianira ,  and  Juno .  Cratinus  plainly  calls  her  a  prostitute: — 

- She  bore  this  Juno ,  this  Aspasia , 

Skill’d  in  the  shameless  trade  and  every  art 
Of  wantonness. 

He  seems  also  to  have  had  a  natural  son  by  her;  for  he  is 
introduced  by  Eupolis  inquiring  after  him  thus: — 


*  What  the  employments  were  to  which  this  Lysicles  was  advanced,  is 
nowhere  recorded. 

j-  It  is  not  to  be  imagined,  that  Aspasia  excelled  in  light  and  amorous  dis. 
courses.  Her  discourses,  on  the  contrary,  were  not  more  brilliant  than  solid. 
It  was  even  believed  by  the  most  intelligent  Athenians,  and  amongst  them 
by  Socrates  himself,  that  she  composed  the  celebrated  funeral  oration  pro¬ 
nounced  by  Pericles,  in  honour  of  those  that  w*ere  slain  in  the  Samian  war. 
It  is  probable  enough  that  Pericles  undertook  that  war  to  avenge  the  quar¬ 
rel  of  the  Milesians,  at  the  suggestion  of  Aspasia,  who  was  of  Miletum,  wha 
is  said  to  have  accompanied  him  in  that  expedition,  and  to  have  built  a  tern- 
p1^  to  perpetuate  the  memory  of  his  victory. 


PERICLES. 


319 


- Still  lives  the  offspring  of  my  dalliance? 

Py  roubles  answers: — 

He  lives 5  and  might  have  borne  the  name  of  husband'. 

Did  he  not  dream  that  every  bosom  fair 
Is  not  a  chaste  one 

Such  was  the  fame  of  Aspasia,  that  Cyrus,  who  contended 
with  Artaxerxes  for  the  Persian  crown,  gave  the  name  of  As¬ 
pasia  to  his  favourite  concubine,  who,  before,  was  called  Milto. 
This  woman  was  born  in  Phocis ,  and  was  the  daughter  of  Her- 
motimus.  When  Cyrus  was  slain  in  the  battle,  she  was  car¬ 
ried  to  the  king,  and  had  afterwards  great  influence  over  him. 
These  particulars  occurring  to  my  memory,  as  I  wrote  this 
life,  I  thought  it  would  be  a  needless  affectation  of  gravity,  if 
not  an  offence  against  politeness,  to  pass  them  over  in  silence. 

I  now  return  to  the  Samian  war,  which  Pericles  is  much 
blamed  for  having  promoted,  in  favour  of  the  Milesians,  at 
the  instigation  of  Aspasia.  The  Milesians  and  Samians  had 
been  at  war  for  the  city  of  Priene,  and  the  Samians  had  the 
advantage,  when  the  Athenians  interposed,  and  ordered  them 
to  lay  down  their  arms,  and  refer  the  decision  of  the  dispute 
to  them;  but  the  Samians  refused  to  comply  with  this  demand. 
Pericles,  therefore,  sailed  with  a  fleet  to  Samos,  and' abolish¬ 
ed  the  oligarchical  form  of  government.  He  then  took  fifty  of 
the  principal  men,  and  the  same  number  of  children,  as  hos¬ 
tages,  and  sent  them  to  Lemnos.  Each  of  these  hostages,  we 
are  told,  offered  him  a  talent  for  his  ransom;  and  those  that 
were  desirous  to  prevent  the  settling  of  a  democracy  among 
them,  would  have  given  him  much  more.*  Pissuthnes  the 
Persian,  who  had  the  interest  of  the  Samians  at  heart,  like¬ 
wise  sent  him  ten  thousand  pieces  of  gold,  to  prevail  upon 
him  to  grant  them  more  favourable  terms.  Pericles,  how¬ 
ever,  would  receive  none  of  their  presents,  but  treated  the 
Samians  in  the  manner  he  had  resolved  on;  and  having  estab¬ 
lished  a  popular  government  in  the  island,  he  returned  to 
Athens. 

But  they  soon  revolted  again,  having  recovered  their  hos¬ 
tages  by  some  private  measure  of  Pissuthnes,  and  made  new 
preparations  for  war.  Pericles  coming  with  a  fleet  to  reduce 
them  once  more,  found  them  not  in  a  posture  of  negligence  or 
despair,  but  determined  to  contend  with  him  for  the  dominion 
of  the  sea.  A  sharp  engagement  ensued  near  the  isle  of  Tra- 

*  Pissuthnes,  the  son  of  Hystaspes,  was  governor  of  Sardis,  and  espoused 
the  cause  of  the  Samians  of  course,  because  the  principal  persons  among 
hem  were  in  the  Persian  interest. 


320 


PEIliwLES. 


gia,  and  Pericles  gained  a  glorious  victory,  having  with  fortv- 
tour  ships  defeated  seventy,  twenty  of  which  had  soldiers  on 
board. 

Pursuing  his  victory,  he  possessed  himself  of  the  harbour 
of  Samos,  and  laid  siege  to  the  city.  They  still  retained  cou¬ 
rage  enough  to  sally  out  and  give  him  battle  before  the  walls. 
Soon  after  a  greater  fleet  came  from  Athens,  and  the  Samians 
were  entirely  shut  up;  whereupon  Pericles  took  sixty  galleys, 
and  steered  for  the  Mediterranean,  with  a  design,  as  is  gene¬ 
rally  supposed,  to  meet  the  Phoenician  fleet  that  was  coming  to 
the  relief  of  Samos,  and  to  engage  with  it  at  a  great  distance 
from  the  island. 

Stesimbrotus  indeed  says,  he  intended  to  sail  for  Cyprus, 
which  is  very  improbable.  But  whatever  his  design  was,  he 
seems  to  have  committed  an  error;  for  as  soon  as  he  was  gone, 
Melissus,  the  son  of  Ithagenes,  a  man  distinguished  as  a  phi¬ 
losopher,  and  at  that  time  commander  of  the  Samians,  despis¬ 
ing  either  the  small  number  of  ships  that  was  left,  or  else  the 
inexperience  of  their  officers,  persuaded  his  countrymen  to  at¬ 
tack  the  Athenians.  Accordingly  a  battle  was  fought,  and  the 
Samians  obtained  the  victory;  for  they  made  many  prisoners, 
destroyed  the  greatest  part  of  the  enemy’s  fleet,  cleared  the 
seas,  and  imported  whatever  warlike  stores  and  provisions 
they  wanted.  Aristotle  writes,  that  Pericles  himself  had 
been  beaten  by  the  same  Melissus  in  a  former  sea-fight. 

The  Samians  returned  upon  the  Athenian  prisoners  the  in 
suit  they  had  received,*  marked  their  foreheads  with  the 
figure  of  an  owl,  as  the  Athenians  had  branded  them  with  a 
Samsena ,  which  is  a  kind  of  ship,  built  low  in  the  fore-part, 
and  wide  and  hollow  in  the  sides.  This  form  makes  it  light 
and  expeditious  in  sailing;  and  it  was  called  Samsena  from  its 
being  invented  in  Samos  by  Polycrates  the  tyrant.  Aristo¬ 
phanes  is  supposed  to  have  hinted  at  these  marks,  when  he 
says, — 

The  Samians  are  a  letter’d  race. 

As  soon  as  Pericles  was  informed  of  the  misfortune  that  had 
befallen  his  army,  he  immediately  returned  with  succours,! 
gave  Melissus  battle,  routed  the  enemy,  and  blocked  up  the 
town,  by  building  a  wall  about  it;  choosing  to  owe  the  con¬ 
quest  of  it  rather  to  time  and  expense,  than  to  purchase  it  with 
the  blood  of  his  fellow-citizens.  But  when  he  found  the  Athe- 

*  We  have  no  account  of  these  reciprocal  barbarities  in  Thucydides. 

+  On  his  return,  he  received  a  reinforcement  of  fourscore  ships,  as  Thucy. 
dides  tells  us,  or  ninety,  according*  to  Diodorus.  Vide  Thiecyd.  lib.  i.  de  I3eil 
Felopon. ;  et  Diodor.  Sicul.  lib.  xii. 


PERICLES. 


321 


mans  murmured  at  the  time  spent  in  the  block  ide,  and  that  it 
was  difficult  to  restrain  them  from  the  assault,  he  divided  the 
army  into  eight  parts,  and  ordered  them  to  draw  lots.  That 
division  which  drew  a  white  bean,  were  to  enjoy  themselves 
in  ease  and  pleasure,  while  the  others  fought.  Hence  it  is 
said,  that  those  who  spend  the  day  in  feasting  and  merriment, 
call  that  a  white  day ,  from  the  white  bean . 

Ephorus  adds,  that  Pericles,  in  this  siege,  made  use  of  bat¬ 
tering  engines,  the  invention  of  which  he  much  admired,  it 
being  then  a  new  one;  and  that  he  had  Artemon ,  the  engineer, 
along  with  him,  who,  on  account  of  his  lameness  was  carried 
about  in  a  litter,  when  his  presence  was  required  to  direct  the 
machines,  and  thence  had  the  surname  of  Periphoretus .  But 
Heraclides  of  Pontus  confutes  this  assertion,  by  some  verses 
of  Anacreon,  in  which  mention  is  made  of  Artemon  Peripho¬ 
retus,  several  ages  before  the  Samian  war,  and  these  transac¬ 
tions  of  Pericles.  And  he  tells  us,  this  Artemon  was  a  per¬ 
son  who  ^ave  himself  up  to  luxury,  and  was  withal  of  a  timid 
and  effeminate  spirit;  and  that  he  spent  most  of  his  time  within 
doors,  and  had  a  shield  of  brass  held  over  his  head,  by  a  couple 
of  slaves,  lest  something  should  fall  upon  him.  Moreover, 
that  if  he  happened  to  be  necessarily  obliged  to  go  abroad, 
he  was  carried  in  a  litter,  which  hung  so  low,  as  almost  to 
touch  the  ground,  and  therefore,  was  called  Periphoretus . 

After  nine  months,  the  Samians  surrendered.  Pericles  razed 
their  walls,  seized  their  ships,  and  laid  a  heavy  fine  upon 
them ;  part  of  which  they  paid  down  directly,  the  rest  they 
promised  at  a  set  time,  and  gave  hostages  for  the  payment. 
Duris  the  Samian,  makes  a  melancholy  tale  of  it,  accusing 
Pericles,  and  the  Athenians,  of  great  cruelty,  of  which  no 
mention  is  made  by  Thucydides,  Ephorus,  or  Aristotle.  What 
he  relates  concerning  the  Samian  officers  and  seamen,  seems 
quite  fictitious;  he  tells  us,  that  Pericles  caused  them  to  be 
brought  into  the  market-place  at  Miletus,  and  to  be  bound  to 
posts  there  for  ten  days  together;  at  the  end  of  which  he  or¬ 
dered  them,  by  that  time  in  the  most  wretched  condition  to 
be  despatched  with  clubs,  and  refused  their  bodies  the  honour 
of  burial.  Duris,  indeed,  in  his  histories,  often  goes  beyond 
the  limits  of  truth,  even  when  not  misled  by  any  interest  or 
passion,  and,  therefore,  is  more  likely  to  have  exaggerated  the 
sufferings  of  his  country,  to  make  the  Athenians  appear  in  an 
odious  light.  * 

Pericles,  at  his  return  to  Athens,  after  the  reduction  of  Sa¬ 
mos,  celebrated,  in  a  splendid  manner,  the  obsequies  of  h’s 


*  Yet  Cicero  tells  us,  this  Duris  was  a  careful  historian,  Homo  in  historid . 
This  historian  lived  in  the  time  of  Ptolemy  Philadelphus. 

Vol.  i  - 2  U  20 


322 


PERICLES. 


countrymen  who  fell  in  that  war,  and  pronounced  himself  the 
funeral  oration,  usual  on  such  occasions. — This  gained  him 
great  applause;  and  when  he  came  down  from  the  rostrum, 
the  women  paid  their  respects  to  him,  and  presented  him  with 
crowns  and  chaplets,  like  a  champion  just  returned  victorious 
from  the  lists.  Only  Elpinice  addressed  him  in  terms  quite 
different — 66  Are  these  actions,  then,  Pericles,  worthy  of 
crowns  and  garlands,  which  have  deprived  us  of  many  biave 
citizens;  not  in  a  war  with  the  Phoenicians  and  Medes,  such 
as  my  brother  Cimon  waged,  but  in  destroying  a  city  united 
to  us,  both  in  blood  and  friendship?’*  Pericles  only  smiled, 
and  answered  softly  with  this  line  of  Archilochus: — 

Why  lavish  ointments  on  a  head  that’s  gray? 

Ion  informs  us,  that  he  was  highly  elated  with  this  conquest, 
and  scrupled  not  to  say, — “  That  Agamemnon  spent  ten  years 
in  reducing  one  of  the  cities  of  the  barbarians,  whereas  he  had 
taken  the  richest  and  most  powerful  city  among  the  Ionians 
in  nine  months.**  And,  indeed,  he  had  reason  to  be  proud 
of  this  achievement;  for  the  war  was  really  a  dangerous  one, 
.and  the  event  uncertain,  since,  according  to  Thucydides,  such 
was  the  power  of  the  Samians,  that  the  Athenians  were  in 
imminent  danger  of  losing  the  dominion  of  the  sea. 

Some  time  after  tiffs,  when  the  Peloponnesian  war  was  rea 
dy  to  break  out,  Pericles  persuaded  the  people  to  send  suc¬ 
cours  to  the  inhabitants  of  Corcyra,  who  were  at  war  with  the 
Corinthians;*  which  would  be  a  means  to  fix  in  their  interest 
an  island,  whose  naval  forces  were  considerable,  anyl  might 
be  of  great  service,  in  case  of  a  rupture  with  the  Peloponne¬ 
sians,  which  they  had  all  the  reason  in  the  world  to  expect 
would  be  soon.  The  succours  were  decreed  accordingly,  and 
Pericles  sent  Lacedsemonius  to  the  son  of  Cimon  with  ten 
ships  only,  as  if  he  designed  nothing  more  than  to  disgrace 
him.t  A  mutual  regard  and  friendship  subsisted  between 
Cimon*s  family  and  the  Spartans:  and  he  now  furnished  his 
son  with  but  a  few  ships,  and  gave  him  the  charge  of  this  af¬ 
fair  against  his  inclination,  in  order  that,  if  nothing  great  or 
striking  were  effected,  Lacedsemonius  might  be  still  the  more 
suspected  of  favouring  the  Spartans.  Nay,  by  all  imaginable 
methods,  he  endeavoured  to  hinder  the  advancement  of  that 

*  This  war  was  commenced  about  the  little  territory  of  Epidamnus,  a  city 
in  Macedonia,  founded  by  the  Corcyrians. 

f  There  seems  to  be  very  little  colour  foi  this  hard  assertion.  Thucy¬ 
dides  says,  that  the  Athenians  did  not  intend  the  Corcyrians  any  real  assist¬ 
ance,  but  sent  this  small  squadron  to  look  on,  while  the  Corinthians  and 
Core}  lians  weakened  and  wasted  each  other. 


PEKICJ.ES. 


323 


family,  representing  the  sons  of  Cimon,  as  by  their  very 
names,  not  genuine  Athenians,  but  strangers  and  aliens,  one 
of  them  being  called  Lacedaemonius,  another  Thessalus,  and 
a  third  Eleus.  They  seem  to  have  been  all  the  sons  of  an 
Arcadian  woman.  Pericles,  however,  finding  himself  greatly 
blamed  about  these  ten  galleys,  an  aid  by  no  means  sufficient 
to  answer  the  purpose  of  those  that  requested  it,  but  likely 
enough  to  afford  his  enemies  a  pretence  to  accuse  him,  sent 
another  squadron  to  Corcyra*  which  did  not  arrive  till  the  ac¬ 
tion  was  over. 

The  Corinthians,  offended  at  this  treatment,  complained  of 
it  at  Lacedaemon,  and  the  Megarensians,  at  the  same  time,  al¬ 
leged,  that  the  Athenians  would  not  suffer  them  to  come  to 
any  mart  or  port  of  theirs,  but  drove  them  out,  thereby  in¬ 
fringing  the  common  privileges,  and  breaking  the  oath  they 
had  taken  before  the  general  assembly  of  Greece.  The  peo¬ 
ple  of  iEgina,  too,  privately  acquainted  the  Lacedaemonians 
with  many  encroachments  and  injuries  done  them  by  the  Athe¬ 
nians,  whom  they  durst  not  accuse  openly.  And  at  this  very 
juncture,  Potidaea,  a  Corinthian  colony,  but  subject  to  the 
Athenians,  being  besieged,  in  consequence  of  its  revolt,  has¬ 
tened  on  the  war. 

However,  as  ambassadors  were  sent  to  Athens,  and  as  Ar- 
chidamus,  king  of  the  Lacedaemonians,  endeavoured  to  give  a 
healing  turn  to  most  of  the  articles  in  question,  and  to  pacify 
the  allies,  probably  no  other  point  would  have  involved  the 
Athenians  in  war,  if  they  could  have  been  persuaded  to  re¬ 
scind  the  decree  against  the  Megarensians,  and  to  be  recon¬ 
ciled  to  them.  Pericles,  therefore,  in  exerting  all  his  interest 
to  oppose  this  measure,  in  retaining  his  enmity  to  the  Mega¬ 
rensians,  and  working  up  the  people  to  the  same  rancour,  was 
the  sole  author  of  the  war. 

It  is  said,  that  when  the  ambassadors  from  Lacedaemon 
came  upon  this  occasion  to  Athens,!  Pericles  pretended  there 

*  But  this  fleet,  which  consisted  of  twenty  ships,  prevented  a  second  en 
gagement,  for  which  they  were  preparing. 

f  The  Lacedaemonian  ambassadors  demanded,  in  the  first  place,  the  ex 
pulsion  of  those  Athenians  who  were  styled  execrable,  on  account  of  the  old 
business  of  Cylon  and  his  associates,  because,  by  his  mother’s  side,  Pericles 
was  allied  to  the  family  of  Megacles;  they  next  insisted,  that  the  siege  of 
Potidaea  should  be  raised;  thirdly,  that  the  inhabitants  of  iEgina  should  be 
left  free;  and,  lastly,  that  the  decree  made  against  the  Megarensians,  where¬ 
by  they  were  forbid  the  ports  and  markets  of  Athens,  on  pain  of  death, 
should  be  revoked,  and  the  Grecian  states  set  at  liberty,  who  were  under 
the  dominion  of  Athens. 

Pericles  represented  to  the  Athenians,  that  whatever  the  Lacedaemonians 
might  pretend,  the  true  ground  of  their  resentment  was  the  prosperity  of 
the  Athenian  republic;  that,  nevertheless,  it  might  be  proposed,  that  flu 


324 


PERICLES. 


was  a  law  which  forbade  the  taking  down  any  tablet  on  which  «i 
decree  of  the  people  was  written: — “Then,”  said  Polycares, 
one  of  th 3  ambassadors,  “do  not  take  it  down,  but  turn  the 
other  side  outward;  there  is  no  law  against  that.”  Notwith¬ 
standing  the  pleasantry  of  this  answer,  Pericles  relented  not 
in  the  least.  He  seems,  indeed,  to  have  had  some  private 
pique  against  the  Megarensians,  though  the  pretext  he  availed 
himself  of  in  public  was,  that  they  had  applied  to  profane  uses 
certain  parcels  of  sacred  ground;  and  thereupon  he  procured 
a  decree  for  a  herald  to  be  sent  to  Megara  and  Lacedaemon,  to 
lay  this  charge  against  the  Megarensians.  This  decree  was 
drawn  up  in  a  candid  and  conciliating  manner.  But  Anthe- 
mocritus,  the  herald  sent  with  that  commission,  losing  his  life 
by  the  way,  through  some  treachery  (as  was  supposed)  of  the 
Megarensians,  Charinus  procured  a  decree  that  an  implacable 
and  eternal  enmity  should  subsist  between  the  Athenians  and 
them;  that  if  any  Megarensian  should  set  foot  upon  Attic 
ground,  he  should  be  put  to  death;  that  to  tne  oath  which  t'neir 
generals  used  to  take,  this  particular  should  be  added,  that  the}' 
would  twice  a-year  make  an  inroad  into  the  territories  of  Me¬ 
gara;  and  that  Anthemocritus  should  be  buried  at  the  Thria- 
sian  gate,  now  called  Vipylus. 

The  Megarensians,  however,  deny  their  being  concerned 
in  the  murder  of  Anthemocritus,*  and  lay  the  war  entirely  at 
the  door  of  Aspasia  and  Pericles;  alleging  in  proof  those  well 
known  verses  from  the  Acharnenses  of  Aristophanes: — 

The  god  of  wine  had  with  his  thyrsus  smote 

Some  youths,  who,  in  their  madness,  stole  from  Megara 

The  prostitute  Simxtha ;  in  revenge. 

Two  females,  liberal  of  their  smiles,  were  stolen 
From  our  Aspasia? s  train. 

It  is  not,  indeed,  easy  to  discover  what  was  the  real  origin  of 
the  war;  but  at  the  same  time  all  agree,  it  was  the  fault  of  Pe¬ 
ricles,  that  the  decree  against  Megara  w’as  not  annulled.  Some 
say,  his  firmness  in  that  case  was  the  effect  of  his  prudence 

Athenians  would  reverse  their  decree  against  Megara,  if  the  Lacedaemonians 
would  allow  free  egress  and  regress,  in  their  city,  to  the  Athenians  and  their 
allies;  that  they  would  leave  all  those  states  free,  who  were  free  at  the  male 
ing  of  the  last  peace  with  Sparta,  provided  the  Spartans  would  also  leave  all 
states  free  who  were  under  their  dominion;  and  that  future  disputes  should 
be  submitted  to  arbitration.  In  case  these  offers  should  not  prevail,  he  ad¬ 
vised  them  to  hazard  a  war. 

*  Thucydides  takes  no  notice  of  this  herald;  and  yet  it  is  so  certain  that 
the  Megarensians  were  looked  upon  as  the  authors  of  the  murder,  that  they 
were  punished  for  it  many  ages  after;  for  on  that  account  the  emperor  Ad¬ 
rian  denied  them  many  favours  and  privileges  which  he  granted  to  the  othe* 
cities  of  Greece. 


PERICLES. 


325 


»nd  magnanimity,  as  he  considered  that  demand  only  as  a  trial, 
and  thought  the  least  concession  would  be  understood  as  an 
acknowledgment  of  weakness;  but  others  will  have  it,  that  his 
treating  the  Lacedaemonians  with  so  little  ceremony,  was  ow¬ 
ing  to  his  obstinacy,  and  an  ambition  to  display  his  power. 

But  the  worst  cause  of  all,*  assigned  for  the  war,  and 
which,  notwithstanding,  is  confirmed  by  most  historians,  is 
as  follows:  Phidias  the  statuary  had  undertaken  (as  we  nave 
said)  the  statue  of  Minerva.  The  friendship  and  influence  he 
had  with  Pericles,  exposed  him  to  envy,  and  procured  him 
many  enemies,  who,  willing  to  make  an  experiment  upon  him, 
what  judgment  the  people  might  pass  on  Pericles  himself,  per¬ 
suaded  Menon,  one  of  Phidias’s  workmen,  to  place  himself  as 
a  suppliant  in  the  forum ,  and  to  entreat  the  protection  of  the 
republic  while  he  lodged  an  information  against  Phidias. 

The  people  granting  his  request,  and  the  affair  coming  to 
a  public  trial,  the  allegation  of  theft,  which  Menon  brought 
against  him,  was  shown  to  be  groundless;  for  Phidias,  by  the 
advice  of  Pericles,  had  managed  the  matter  from  the  first  with 
so  much  art,  that  the  gold  with  which  the  statue  was  overlaid, 
could  easily  be  taken  off  and  weighed;  and  Pericles  ordered 
this  to  be  done  by  the  accusers.  But  the  excellence  of  his 
work,  and  the  envy  arising  thence  was  the  thing  that  ruined 
Phidias;  and  it  was  particularly  insisted  upon,  that  in  his  re¬ 
presentation  of  the  battle  with  the  Amazons  upon  Minerva’s 
shield,  he  had  introduced  his  own  effigies  as  a  bald  old  man 
taking  up  a  great  stone  with  both  hands,!  and  a  high-finished 
picture  of  Pericles  fighting  with  an  Amazon.  The  last  was 
contrived  with  so  much  art,  that  the  hand,  which,  in  lifting 
up  the  spear,  partly  covered  the  face,  seemed  to  be  intended 
to  conceal  the  likeness,  which  yet  was  very  striking  on  both 
sides.  Phidias,  therefore,  was  thrown  into  prison,  where  he 
died  a  natural  death;!  though  some  say  poison  was  given  him 
by  his  enemies,  who  were  desirous  of  causing  Pericles  to  be 
suspected.  As  for  the  accuser  Menon,  he  had  an  immunity 
from  taxes  granted  him,  at  the  motion  of  Glycon,  and  the  ge¬ 
nerals  were  ordered  to  provide  for  his  security. 

About  this  time  Asnasia  was  prosecuted  for  impiety  by  Her- 
mippus  a  comic  poet,  who  likewise  accused  her  of  receiving 

*  Pericles,  when  he  saw  his  friends  prosecuted,  was  apprehensive  of  a 
prosecution  himself,  and  therefore  hastened  on  a  rupture  with  the  Pelopon¬ 
nesians,  to  turn  the  attention  of  the  people  to  war. 

t  They  insisted  that  those  modern  figaires  impeached  the  credit  of  the  an 
cient  history,  which  did  so  much  honour  to  Athens,  and  their  founder  The* 
seus. 

$  Others  say,  that  he  was  banished,  and  that  in  his  exile  he  made  the  fa 
mous  statue  of  Jupiter  at  Olympia. 

29* 


i526 


PF.U1CLES. 


into  her  house  women  above  the  condition  of  slaves,  tor  the 
pleasure  of  Pericles.  And  Diopithes  procured  a  decree,  that 
those  who  disputed  the  existence  of  the  gods,  or  introduced 
new  opinions  about  celestial  appearances,  should  be  tried  be¬ 
fore  an  assembly  of  the  people.  This  charge  was  levelled  first 
at  Anaxagoras,  and  through  him  at  Pericles.  And  as  the  peo¬ 
ple  admitted  it,  another  decree  was  proposed  by  Dracontides, 
that  Pericles  should  give  an  account  of  the  public  money  be¬ 
fore  the  Prytanes ,  and  that  the  judges  should  take  the  ballots 
from  the  altar, *  and  try  the  cause  in  the  city.  But  Agnon 
caused  the  last  article  to  be  dropt,  and  instead  thereof,  it  was 
voted  that  the  action  should  be  laid  before  the  fifteen  hundred 
judges,  either  for  peculation,  and  taking  of  bribes,  or  simply  for 
corrupt  practices . 

Aspasia  was  acquitted,!  though  much  against  the  tenor  of 
the  law,  by  means  of  Pericles,  who  (according  to  Aeschines) 
shed  many  tears  in  his  application  for  mercy  for  her.  He  did 
not  expect  the  same  indulgence  for  Anaxagoras,!  and  there¬ 
fore  caused  him  to  quit  the  city,  and  conducted  him  part  of 
the  way.  And  as  he  himself  was  become  obnoxious  to  the 
people  upon  Phidias’s  account,  and  was  afraid  of  being  call 
ed  in  question  for  it,  he  urged  on  the  war  which  as  yet  was 
uncertain,  and  blew  up  that  flame  which  till  then  was  stifled 
and  suppressed.  By  this  means  he  hoped  to  obviate  the  accu¬ 
sations  that  threatened  him,  and  to  mitigate  the  rage  of  envy, 
because  such  was  his  dignity  and  power,  that  in  all  important 
affairs,  and  in  every  great  danger,  the  republic  could  place  its 
confidence  in  him  alone.  These  are  said  to  be  the  reasons 
which  induced  him  to  persuade  the  people  not  to  grant  the 
demands  of  the  Lacedaemonians;  but  what  was  the  real  cause, 
is  quite  uncertain. 

.  The  Lacedaemonians,  persuaded,  that  if  they  could  remove 
Pericles  out  of  the  way,  they  should  be  better  able  to  manage 
the  Athenians,  required  them  to  banish  all  execrable  persons 

*  In  some  extraordinary  cases,  where  the  judges  were  to  proceed  with  the 
greatest  exactness  and  solemnity,  they  were  to  take  ballots  or  billets  from 
the  altar,  and  to  inscribe  their  judgment  upon  them,  or  rather  to  take  the 
black  and  the  white  bean,  4 .  What  Plutarch  means  by  trying  the  cause, 
in  the  city ,  is  not  easy  to  determine,  unless  by  the  city ,  we  are  to  understand 
the  full  assembly  of  the  people.  By  the  fifteen  hundred  judges  mentioned  in 
the  next  sentence,  is  probably  meant  the  court  of  Heliaea ,  so  called  because 
the  judges  sat  in  the  open  air  exposed  to  the  sun;  for  this  court,  on  extraor¬ 
dinary  occasions,  consisted  of  that  number. 

!  Iloxxat  7ra.w  7rcipa  Sunv. - 

t  Anaxagoras  held  the  unity  of  God;  that  it  was  one  all-wise  Intelligence, 
which  raised  the  beautiful  structure  of  the  world  out  of  the  chaos.  And  if 
such  was  the  opinion  of  the  master,  it  was  natural  for  the  people  to  conclude 
that  hi?  scholar  Pericles  was  against  the  Polytheism  of  the  times. 


PERICLES. 


327 


from  among  them;  and  Pericles  (as  Thucydides  mfoiins  us' 
was  by  his  mothers  side  related  to  those  that  were  pronoune 
ed  execrable ,  in  the  affair  of  Cylon.  The  success,  however,  of 
this  application  proved  the  reverse  of  what  was  expected  by 
those  that  ordered  it.  Instead  of  rendering  Pericles  suspect¬ 
ed,  or  involving  him  in  trouble,  it  procured  him  the  more  con¬ 
fidence  and  respect  from  the  people,  when  they  perceived  that 
their  enemies  both  hated  and  dreaded  him  above  ail  others. 
For  the  same  reason  he  forewarned  the  Athenians,  that  if  Ar- 
chidamus,  when  he  entered  Attica  at  the  head  of  the  Pelopon¬ 
nesians,  and  ravaged  the  rest  of  the  country,  should  spare  his 
estate,  it  must  be  owing  either  to  the  rights  of  hospitality  that 
subsisted  between  them,  or  to  a  design  to  furnish  his  enemies 
with  matter  of  slander,  and  therefore  from  that  hour  he  gave 
his  lands  and  houses  to  the  city  of  Athens.  The  Lacedaemo¬ 
nians  and  confederates  accordingly  invaded  Attica  with  a  great 
army  under  the  conduct  of  Archidamus;  and  laying  waste  all 
before  them,  proceeded  as  far  as  Acharnae,*  where  they  en¬ 
camped,  expecting  that  the  Athenians  would  not  be  able  to 
endure  them  so  near,  but  meet  them  in  the  field  for  the  honour 
and  safety  of  their  country.  But  it  appeared  to  Pericles  too 
hazardous  to  give  battle  to  an  army  of  sixty  thousand  men 
(for  such  was  the  number  of  the  Peloponnesians  and  Boeotians 
employed  in  the  first  expedition),  and  by  that  step  to  risk  no 
less  than  the  preservation  of  the  city  itself.  As  to  those  that 
were  eager  for  an  engagement,  and  uneasy  at  his  slow  proceed¬ 
ings,  he  endeavoured  to  bring  them  to  reason,  by  observing, 
“  That  trees,  when  lopped,  will  soon  grow  again;  but  when 
men  are  cut  off,  the  loss  is  not  easily  repaired.” 

In  the  mean  time  he  took  care  to  hold  no  assembly  of  the 
people,  lest  he  should  be  forced  to  act  against  his  own  opinion. 
But  as  a  good  pilot,  when  a  storm  arises  at  sea,  gives  his  di¬ 
rections,  gets  nis  tackle  in  order,  and  then  uses  his  art,  re¬ 
gardless  of  the  tears  and  entreaties  of  the  sick  and  fearful  pas¬ 
sengers;  so  Pericles,  when  he  had  secured  the  gates,  and  placed 
the  guards  in  every  quarter  to  the  best  advantage,  followed 
the  dictates  of  his  own  understanding,  unmoved  by  the  cla¬ 
mours  and  complaints  that  resounded  in  his  ears.  Thus  firm  he 
remained,  notwithstanding  the  importunity  of  his  friends,  and 
the  threats  and  accusations  of  his  enemies,  notwithstanding  the 
many  scoffs  and  songs  sung  to  vilify  his  character  as  a  general, 
and  to  represent  him  as  one  who,  in  the  most  dastardly  man¬ 
ner,  betrayed  his  country  to  the  enemy.  Cleon, t  too,  at- 

*  The  borough  of  Acharme  was  only  fifteen  hundred  paces  from  the  city. 

f  The  same  Cleon  that  Aristophanes  satirized.  By  his  harangues  and  po¬ 
litical  intrigues,  he  got  himself  appointed  general,  See  a  farther  accoun 
Df  him  in  the  life  of  Nicias. 


328 


PERICLES. 


tacked  him  with  great  acrimony,  making  use  of  the  genera! 
resentment  against  Pericles,  as  a  means  to  increase  his  own 
popularity,  as  Hermippus  testifies  in  these  verses: — 

Sleeps  then,  thou  king  of  satyrs,  sleeps  the  spear. 

While  thundering*  words  make  war?  why  boast  thy  prowess, 

Yet  shudder  at  the  sound  of  sharpen’d  swords. 

Spite  of  the  flaming  Cleon? 

Pericles,  however,  regarded  nothing  of  this  kind,  but  calmly 
and  silently  bore  all  this  disgrace  and  virulence.  And  though 
he  fitted  out  a  hundred  ships,  and  sent  them  against  Pelopon¬ 
nesus,  yet  he  did  not  sail  with  them,  but  chose  to  stay  and 
watch  over  the  city,  and  keep  the  reins  of  government  in  his 
own  hands,  until  the  Peloponnesians  were  gone.  In  order  tc 
satisfy  the  common  people,  who  were  very  uneasy  on  account 
of  the  war,  he  made  a  distribution  of  money  and  lands;  for 
having  expelled  the  inhabitants  of  iEgina,  he  divided  the 
island  by  lot  among  the  Athenians.  Besides,  the  sufferings 
of  the  enemy  afforded  them  some  consolation.  The  fleet  sent 
against  Peloponnesus,  ravaged  a  large  tract  of  country,  aird 
sacked  the  small  towns  and  villages;  and  Pericles  himself 
made  a  descent  upon  the  territories  of  Megara,*  which  he  laid 
waste.  Whence  it  appears, t  that  though  the  Peloponnesians 
greatly  distressed  the  Athenians  by  land,  yet  as  they  were 
equally  distressed  by  sea,  they  could  not  have  drawn  out  the 
war  to  so  great  a  length,  but  must  soon  have  given  it  up  (as 
Pericles  foretold  from  the  beginning),  had  not  some  divine 
power  prevented  the  effect  of  human  counsels.  A  pestilence 
at  that  time  broke  out,J  which  destroyed  the  flower  of  the 
youth  and  the  strength  of  Athens.  And  not  only  their  bodies, 
but  their  very  minds  were  affected;  for  as  persons  delirious 
with  a  fever,  set  themselves  against  a  physician  or  a  father, 
so  they  raved  against  Pericles,  and  attempted  his  ruin;  being 
persuaded  by  his  enemies,  that  the  sickness  was  occasioned 
ny  the  multitude  of  out-dwellers  flocking  into  the  city,  and  a 
number  of  people  stuffed  together  in  the  height  of  summer, 
in  small  huts  and  close  cabins,  where  they  were  forced  to  live 
a  lazy,  inactive  life,  instead  of  breathing  the  pure  and  open 
air  to  which  they  had  been  accustomed.  They  would  needs 
have  it,  that  he  was  the  cause  of  all  this,  who,  when  the  war 

*  He  did  not  undertake  this  expedition  until  autumn,  when  the  Lacedae¬ 
monians  were  retired.  In  the  winter  of  this  year,  the  Athenians  solem¬ 
nized,  in  an  extraordinary  manner,  the  funerals  of  such  as  first  died  in  the 
war.  Pericles  pronounced  the  oration  on  that  occasion,  which  Thucydides 
has  preserved. 

-j-H  X3t i  <T»xov. - 

i  See  this  plague  excellently  described  by  Thucydides,  who  had  it  him 
%elf. — Lib.  ii.  prop.  init. 


PERICLES. 


329 


began,  admitted  within  the  walls  such  crowds  of  people  from 
the  country,  and  yet  found  no  employment  for  them,  but  let 
them  continue  penned  up  like  cattle,  to  infect  and  destroy 
each  other,  without  affording  them  the  least  relief  or  refresh¬ 
ment. 

Desirous  to  remedy  this  calamity,  and  withal  in  some  degree 
to  annoy  the  enemy,  he  manned  a  hundred  and  fifty  ships,  on 
which  he  embarked  great  numbers  of  select  horse  and  foot, 
and  was  preparing  to  set  sail.  The  Athenians  conceived  good 
hopes  of  success,  and  the  enemy  no  less  dreaded  so  great  an 
armament.  The  whole  fleet  was  in  readiness,  and  Pericles  on 
board  his  own  galley,  when  there  happened  an  eclipse  of  the 
sun.  This  sudden  darkness  was  looked  upon  as  an  unfavour¬ 
able  omen,  and  threw  them  into  the  greatest  consternation. 
Pericles,  observing  that  the  pilot  was  much  astonished  and 
perplexed,  took  his  cloak,  and  having  covered  his  eyes  with 
it,  asked  him, — “  If  he  found  any  thing  terrible  in  that,  or 
considered  it  as  a  sad  presage?”  Upon  his  answering  in  the 
negative,  he  said, — “  Where  is  the  difference  then  between 
this  and  the  other,  except  that  something  bigger  than  my  cloak 
causes  the  eclipse?”  But  this  is  a  question  which  is  discussed 
in  the  schools  of  philosophy. 

In  this  expedition  Pericles  performed  nothing  worthy  of  so 
great  an  equipment.  He  laid  siege  to  the  sacred  city  of  Epi- 
daurus,*  and  at  fir ^t  with  some  rational  hopes  of  success;!  but 
the  distemper  which  prevailed  in  his  army  broke  all  his  mea¬ 
sures;  for  it  not  only  carried  off  his  own  men,  but  all  that  had 
intercourse  with  them.  As  this  ill  success  set  the  ‘Athenians 
against  him,  he  endeavoured  to  console  them  under  their  loss¬ 
es,  and  to  animate  them  to  new  attempts.  But  it  was  not  in 
his  power  to  mitigate  their  resentment,  nor  could  they  be  sa¬ 
tisfied,  until  they  had  showed  themselves  masters,  by  voting 
that  he  should  be  deprived  of  the  command,  and  pay  a  fine, 
which,  by  the  lowest  account,  was  fifteen  talents;  some  make 
it  fifty.  The  person  that  carried  on  the  prosecution  against 
him  was  Cleon,  as  domeneus  tells  us;  or,  according  to  Theo¬ 
phrastus,  Simmias;  or  Lacratides,  if  we  believe  Heraclides, 
of  Pontus. 

The  public  ferment,  indeed,  soon  subsided,  the  people  quit¬ 
ting  their  resentment  with  that  blow,  as  a  bee  leaves  its  sting 
in  the  wound;  but  his  private  affairs  were  in  a  miserable  con¬ 
dition;  for  he  had  lost  a  number  of  his  relations  in  the  plague, 

*  This  Epidaums  was  in  Argia.  It  was  consecrated  to  Aesculapius;  and 
Plutarch  calls  it  sacred ,  to  distinguish  it  from  another  town  of  the  same 
name  in  Laconia. 

!  ^.hTrtf'JL  TrdLQXvyjxray  ’atArucrcyuswv. - 

Vot..  T. - 2  X 


330 


PERICLES. 


and  a  misunderstanding  had  prevailed  lor  some  time  in  his 
family.  Xanthippus,  the  eldest  of  his  legitimate  sons,  was 
naturally  profuse,  and  besides  had  married  a  young  and  ex¬ 
pensive  wife,  daughter  to  Isander,  and  grand-daughter  to 
Epylicus.  He  knew  not  how  to  brook  his  father’s  frugality, 
who  supplied  him  but  sparingly,  and  with  a  little  at  a  time, 
and  therefore  sent  to  one  of  his  friends,  and  took  up  money  in 
the  name  of  Pericles.  When  the  man  came  to  demand  his 
money,  Pericles  not  only  refused  to  pay  him,  but  even  prose¬ 
cuted  him  for  the  demand.  Xanthippus  was  so  highly  enra 
ged  at  this,  that  he  began  openly  to  abuse  his  father.  First  he 
exposed  and  ridiculed  the  company  he  kept  in  his  house,  and 
the  conversations  he  held  with  the  philosophers.  He  said, 
that  Epitimius  the  Pharsalian  having  undesignedly  killed  a 
horse  with  a  javelin  which  he  threw  at  the  public  games,  his 
father  spent  a  whole  day  in  disputing  with  Protogorus,  which 
might  be  properly  deemed  the  cause  of  his  death,  the  javelin, 
or  the  man  that  threw  it,  or  the  presidents  of  the  games. 
Stesimbrotus  adds,  that  it  was  Xanthippus  who  spread  the  vile 
report  concerning  his  own  wife  and  Pericles,  and  that  the 
young  man  retained  this  implacable  hatred  against  his  father 
to  his  latest  breath.  He  was  carried  off  by  the  plague.  Peri¬ 
cles  lost  his  sister  too,  at  that  time,  and  the  greatest  part  of 
his  relations  and  friends,  who  were  most  capable  of  assisting 
him  in  the  business  of  the  state.  Notwithstanding  these  mis¬ 
fortunes,  he  lost  not  his  dignity  of  sentiment  and  greatness  of 
soul.  He  neither  wept,  nor  performed  any  funeral  rites,  nor 
was  he  seen  at  the  grave  of  any  of  his  nearest  relations,  until 
the  death  of  Paralus,  his  last  surviving  legitimate  son.  This 
at  last  subdued  him.  He  attempted,  indeed,  then  to  keep  up 
his  usual  calm  behaviour  and  serenity  of  mind:  but  in  putting 
the  garland  upon  the  head  of  the  deceased,  his  firmness  forsook 
him;  he  could  not  bear  the  sad  spectacle,  he  broke  out  into 
loud  lamentations,  and  shed  a  torrent  of  tears;  a  passion  which 
he  had  never  before  given  way  to. 

Athens  made  a  trial,  in  the  course  of  a  year,  of  the  rest  of 
her  generals  and  orators,  and  finding  none  of  sufficient  weight 
and  authority  for  so  important  a  charge,  she  once  more  turned 
her  eyes  on  Pericles,  and  invited  him  to  take  upon  him  the 
Direction  of  affairs  both  military  and  civil.  He  nad  for  some 
time  shut  himself  up  at  home  to  indulge  his  sorrow,  when  Al- 
eibiades  and  his  other  friends  persuaded  him  to  make  his  ap¬ 
pearance.  The  people  making  an  apology  for  their  ungener¬ 
ous  treatment  of  him,  he  re-assumed  the  reigns  of  government, 
and  being  appointed  general,  his  first  step  was  to  procure  the 
repeal  of  the  law  concerning  bastards,  of  which  he  himself  had 
been  the  author;  for  he  was  afraid  that  his  name  and  fannlv 


PERICLES. 


331 


would  be  extinct  for  want  of  a  successor.  The  history  of  that 
law  is  as  follows: — Many  years  before,  Pericles,  in  the  height 
of  his  power,  and  having  several  legitimate  sons,  (as  we  have 
already  related)  caused  a  law  to  be  made,  that  none  should  be 
accounted  citizens  of  Athens,  but  those  whose  parents  were 
both  Athenians.* * * §  After  this,  the  king  of  Egypt  made  the 
Athenians  a  present  of  forty  thousand  medimni  of  wheat;  and 
as  this  was  to  be  divided  among  the  citizens,  many  persons 
were  proceeded  against  as  illegitimate  upon  that  law,  whose 
birth  had  never  before  been  called  in  question,  and  many  were 
disgraced  upon  false  accusations.  Near  five  thousand  were 
cast  and  sold  for  slaves;!  and  fourteen  thousand  and  forty  ap¬ 
peared  to  be  entitled  to  the  privilege  of  citizens.  J  Though 
it  was  unequitable  and  strange,  that  a  law,  which  had  been  put 
in  execution  with  so  much  severity,  should  be  repealed  by  the 
man  who  first  proposed  it,  yet  the  Athenians,  moved  at  the 
late  misfortunes  in  his  family,  by  which  he  seemed  to  have 
suffered  the  punishment  of  his  arrogance  and  pride,  and  think¬ 
ing  he  should  be  treated  with  humanity,  after  he  had  felt  the 
wrath  of  heaven,  permitted  him  to  enrol  a  natural  son  in  his 
own  tribe,  and  to  give  him  his  own  name.  This  is  he  who 
afterwards  defeated  the  Peloponnesians  in  a  sea-fight  at  Ar- 
ginusae,  and  wras  put  to  death  by  the  people,  together  with  his 
colleagues.  § 

About  this  time  Pericles  was  seized  with  the  plague,  but 
not  with  such  acute  and  continued  symptoms  as  it  generally 
shows.  It  was  rather  a  lingering  distemper,  which,  with  fre¬ 
quent  intermissions,  and  by  slow  degrees,  consumed  his  body, 
and  impaired  the  vigour  of  his  mind.  Theophrastus  has  a 
disquisition  in  his  ethics,  whether  men’s  characters  may  be 

*  According  to  Plutarch’s  account,  at  the  beginning  of  the  life  of  The- 
mistocles,  this  law  was  made  before  the  time  of  Pericles.  Pericles,  how¬ 
ever,  might  put  it  more  strictly  in  execution  than  it  had  been  before,  from 
a  spirit  of  opposition  to  Cimon,  whose  children  were  only  of  the  half-blood. 

f  The  illegitimacy  did  not  reduce  men  to  a  state  of  servitude;  it  only  pla¬ 
ced  them  in  the  rank  of  strangers. 

t  A  small  number  indeed,  at  a  time  when  Athens  had  dared  to  think  of 
sending  out  colonies,  humbling  her  neighbours,  subduing  foreigners,  and 
even  of  erecting  an  universal  monarchy. 

§  The  Athenians  had  appointed  ten  commanders  on  that  occasion.  After 
they  had  obtained  the  victory,  they  were  tried,  and  eight  of  them  were 
capitally  condemned,  of  whom  six  that  were  on  the  spot  were  executed,  and 
this  natural  son  of  Pericles  was  one  of  them.  The  only  crime  laid  to  their 
charge,  was,  that  they  had  not  buried  the  dead.  Xenophon,  in  his  Grecian 
history,  has  given  a  large  account  of  this  affair.  It  happened  under  the 
archonship  of  Callias,  the  second  year  of  the  ninety-third  Olympiad,  twenty- 
four  years  after  the  death  of  Pericles.  Socrates  the  philosopher  was  at  that 
tone  one  of  the  prytanes,  and  resolutely  refused  to  do  his  office.  And  a  lit 
de  while  after  the  madness  of  the  people  turned  the  other  way. 


332 


perici.es. 


changed  with  their  fortune,  and  the  soul  so  affected  with  the 
disorders  of  the  body  as  to  lose  her  virtue;  and  there  he  re¬ 
lates,  that  Pericles  showed  to  a  friend,  who  came  to  visit  him 
in  his  sickness,  an  amulet  which  the  women  had  hung  about 
his  neck,  intimating  that  he  must  be  sick  indeed,  since  he  sub¬ 
mitted  to  so  ridiculous  a  piece  of  superstition.  * 

When  he  was  at  the  point  of  death,  his  surviving  friends 
and  the  principal  citizens  sitting  about  his  bed,  discoursed  to¬ 
gether  concerning  his  extraordinary  virtue,  and  the  great  au¬ 
thority  he  had  enjoyed,  and  enumerated  his  various  exploits 
and  the  number  of  his  victories;  for,  while  he  was  command¬ 
er-in-chief,  he  had  erected  no  less  than  nine  trophies  to  the 
honour  of  Athens.  These  things  they  talked  of,  supposing 
that  he  attended  not  to  what  they  said,  but  that  his  senses  were 
gone.  He  took  notice,  however,  of  every  word  they  had 
spoken,  and  thereupon  delivered  himself  audibly  as  follows: — 
•‘I  am  surprised,  that  while  you  dwell  upon  and  extol  these 
acts  of  mine,  though  fortune  had  her  share  in  them,  and  many 
other  generals  have  performed  the  like,  you  take  no  notice  of 
the  greatest  and  most  honourable  part  of  my  character,  that  no 
Athenian ,  through  my  means ,  ever  put  on  mourning 

Pericles  undoubtedly  deserved  admiration,  not  only  for  the 
candour  and  moderation  which  he  ever  retained  amidst  the 
distractions  of  business  and  the  rage  of  his  enemies,  but  for  that 
noble  sentiment  which  led  him  to  think  it  his  most  excellent 
attainment  never  to  have  given  way  to  envy  or  anger,  not¬ 
withstanding  the  greatness  of  his  power,  nor  to  have  nourish¬ 
ed  an  implacable  hatred  against  his  greatest  foe.  In  my  opin¬ 
ion,  this  one  thing,  I  mean  his  mild  and  dispassionate  beha¬ 
viour,  his  unblemished  integrity  and  irreproachable  conduct 
during  his  whole  administration,  makes  his  appellation  of 
Olympius,  which  would  be  otherwise  vain  and  absurd,  no 
longer  exceptionable,  nay,  gives  it  a  propriety.  Thus  we 
think  the  divine  powers,  as  the  authors  of  all  good,  and  natu¬ 
rally  incapable  of  producing  evil,  worthy  to  rule  and  preside 
over  the  universe;  not  in  the  manner  which  the  poets  relate, 
who,  while  they  endeavour  to  bewilder  us  by  their  irrational 
opinions,  stand  convicted  of  inconsistency  by  their  own  wri¬ 
tings;  for  they  represent  the  place  which  the  gods  inhabit,  as 
the  region  of  security  and  the  most  perfect  tranquillity,  unap¬ 
proached  by  storms,  and  unsullied  with  clouds;  where  a  sweet 
serenity  forever  reigns,  and  a  pure  set  her  displays  itself  with- 


*  It  does  not  appear  by  this  that  his  understanding*  was  weakened,  since 
lie  knew  the  charm  to  be  a  ridiculous  piece  of  superstition,  and  showed  it  tc 
his  friend  as  such;  but  only  that  in  his  extreme  sickness  he  had  not  resolu¬ 
tion  enough  to  refuse  what  he  was  sensible  would  do  him  no  g*ood. 


PERICLES. 


333 


out  interruption;  ana  tnese  they  think  mansions  suitable  to  a 
blessed  and  immortal  nature.  Yet,  at  the  same  time,  they 
represent  the  gods  themselves  as  full  of  anger,  malevolence; 
hatred,  and  other  passions,  unworthy  even  of  a  reasonable  man. 
But  this  by  the  bye. 

The  state  of  public  affairs  soon  showed  the  want  of  Pericles,* 
and  the  Athenians  openly  expressed  their  regret  for  his  loss. 
Even  those  who  in  his  lifetime  could  but  ill  brook  his  superi¬ 
or  power,  as  thinking  themselves  eclipsed  by  it,  yet  upon  a 
trial  of  other  orators  and  demagogues,  after  he  was  gone,  soon 
acknowledged,  that  where  severity  was  required,  no  man  was 
ever  more  moderate;  or  if  mildness  was  necessary,  no  man 
better  kept  up  his  dignity  than  Pericles.  And  his  so  much 
envied  authority,  to  which  they  had  given  the  name  of  mon¬ 
archy  and  tyranny,  then  appeared  to  have  been  the  bulwark 
of  the  state;  so  much  corruption  and  such  a  rage  of  wicked¬ 
ness  broke  out  upon  the  commonwealth  after  his  death,  which 
he  by  proper  restraints  had  palliated, t  and  kept  from  danger¬ 
ous  and  destructive  extremities. 

*  Pericles  died  in  the  third  year  of  the  Peloponnesian  war,  that  is,  the  last 
V  ear  of  the  eighty-seventh  Olympiad,  and  428  years  before  the  Christian  era. 

f  Pericles  did  indeed  palliate  the  distempers  of  the  commonwealth  while 
he  lived,  but  (as  we  have  observed  before)  he  sowed  the  seeds  of  them,  by 
bribing  the  people  with  their  own  money,  with  which  they  were  as  much 
pleased  as  if  it  had  been  his. 


THE 


LIFE  OF  FABIUS  MAXIMUS. 


Such  were  the  memorable  actions  of  Pericles,* * * §  as  far  as  we 
nave  been  able  to  collect  them ;  and  now  we  proceed  to  the  life 
of  Fabius  Maximus. 

The  first  Fabius  was  the  son  of  Hercules  by  one  of  the 
Nymphs,  according  to  some  authors;  or,  as  others  say,  ty  a 
woman  of  the  country  near  the  river  Tiber.  From  him  came 
the  family  of  the  Fabii,  one  of  the  most  numerous  and  illus¬ 
trious  in  Rome.t  Yet  some  authors  write,  that  the  first 
founders  of  this  family  were  called  Fodii, i  on  account  of  their 
catching  wild  beasts  by  means  of  pits;  for  a  pit  is  still  in  Latin 
called  fovea ,  and  the  word  fodere  signifies  to  dig:  but  in  time 
two  letters  being  changed,  they  had  the  name  of  Fabii.  This 
family  produced  many  eminent  men,  the  most  considerable  of 
whom  was  Rullus ,§  by  the  Romans  surnamed  Maximus ,  or  the 
great:  and  from  him  the  Fabius  Maximus  of  whom  we  are  writ¬ 
ing,  was  the  fourth  in  descent. 

This  last  had  the  surname  of  Verrucosus ,  from  a  small  wart 
on  his  upper  lip.  He  was  likewise  called  Ovicula,  ||  from  the 
mildness  and  gravity  of  his  behaviour  when  a  boy.  Nay,  his 
composed  demeanour,  and  his  silence,  his  caution  in  engaging 
in  the  diversions  of  the  other  boys,  the  slowness  and  difficulty 

*  fif  TrupitklKpel/UiV. 

j*  The  most  numerous;  for  that  family  alone  undertook  the  war  against  the 
Veientes,  and  sent  out  three  hundred  and  six  persons  of  their  own  name,  who 
were  all  slain  in  that  expedition.  It  was  likewise  o.ne  of  the  most  illustrious; 
for  the  Fabii  had  borne  the  highest  offices  in  the  state,  and  two  of  them 
had  been  seven  times  consul. 

+  Pliny’s  account  of  the  matteris  much  more  probable,  viz.  that  they  were 
called  Fabii ,  a  fabis,  from  their  skill  in  raising  beans;  as  several  other  families 
of  note  among  the  Romans  were  denominated  from  other  branches  of  hus¬ 
bandry.  Indeed,  their  first  heroes  tilled  the  ground  with  their  own  hands. 

§  This  Fabius  Rullus  was  five  times  consul,  and  gained  several  important 
victoiies  over  the  Samnites,  Tuscans,  and  other  nations.  It  was  not,  how¬ 
ever,  from  these  great  actions  that  he  obtained  the  surname  of  Maximus ,  but 
from  his  behaviour  in  the  censorship;  during  which  he  reduced  the  populace 
of  Rome  into  four  tribes,  who  before  were  dispersed  among  all  the  tribes  in 
general,  and  by  that  means  had  very  great  power  in  the  assemblies, 
were  called  Tribus  Urbanae. — Liv .  lib.  ix.  cap.  46, 

y  Ovicula  signifies  a  little  sheep. 


FABIUS  MAXIMUS. 


335 


with  which  he  took  up  what  was  taught  him,  together  with 
the  submissive  manner  in  which  he  complied  with  the  propo¬ 
sals  of  his  comrades,  brought  him  under  the  suspicion  of  stu¬ 
pidity  and  foolishness  with  those  that  did  not  thoroughly  know 
him.  Yet  a  few  there  were  who  perceived  that  his  composedness 
was  owing  to  the  solidity  of  his  parts,  and  who  discerned  with¬ 
al,  magnanimity  and  lion-like  courage  in  his  nature.  In  a  short 
time,  when  application  to  business  drew  him  out,  it  was  ob¬ 
vious  even  to  the  many,  that  his  seeming  inactivity  was  a 
command  which  he  had  of  his  passions,  that  his  cautiousness 
was  prudence,  and  that  which  had  passed  for  heaviness  and 
insensibility  was  really  an  immoveable  firmness  of  soul.  He 
saw  what  an  important  concern  the  administration  was,  and  in 
what  wars  the  republic  was  frequently  engaged,  and  therefore 
by  exercise  prepared  his  body,  considering  its  strength  as  a 
natural  armour;  at  the  same  time  he  improved  his  power  of 
persuasion,  as  the  engines  by  which  the  people  are  to  be  mov¬ 
ed,  adapting  them  to  the  manner  of  his  life;  for  in  his  eloquence 
there  was  nothing  of  affectation,  no  empty*  plausible  elegance; 
but  it  was  full  of  that  good  sense  which  was  peculiar  to  him, 
and  had  a  sententious  force  and  depth,  said  to  have  resembled 
that  of  Thucydides.  There  is  an  oration  of  his  still  extant, 
which  he  delivered  before  the  people  on  occasion  of  his  son’s 
funeral,  who  died  after  he  had  been  consul. 

Fabius  Maximus  was  five  times  consul;!  and  in  his  first  con¬ 
sulship  was  honoured  with  a  triumph  for  the  victory  he  gained 
over  the  Ligurians,  who  being  defeated  by  him  in  a  set  battle, 
with  the  loss  of  a  great  number  of  men,  were  driven  behind 
the  Alps,  and  kept  from  such  inroads  and  ravages  as  they  had 
used  to  make  in  the  neighbouring  provinces. 

Some  years  after,  Hannibal  having  invaded  Italy,!  and 
gained  the  battle  of  Trebia,  advanced  through  Tuscany,  laying 
waste  the  country,  and  striking  Rome  itself  with  terror  and  as¬ 
tonishment.  This  desolation  was  announced  by  signs  and 
prodigies;,  some  familiar  to  the  Romans,  as  that  of  thunder  for 
instance,  and  others  quite  stnos.ge  and  unaccountable.  For  it 
was  said  that  certain  shields  sweated  blood;  that  bloody  corn 
was  cut  at  Antium:  that  red  hot  stones  fell  from  the  air;  that 
the  Falerians  saw  the  heavens  open,  and  many  billets  fall, § 

*  The  writers  that  affect  this,  Plato  calls  \oytS'ut<f'u\ot. 

f  Fabius  was  consul  the  first  time  in  the  year  of  Rome  521;  and  the  fifth 
time,  in  the  tentli  year  of  the  second  Punic  war,  in  the  year  of  Rome  545. 

t  Here  Plutarch  leaves  a  voi  d  of  fifteen  years.  It  was  not  indeed  a  re¬ 
markable  period  of  the  life  of  Fabius.  Hannibal  entered  Italy  in  the  year  of 
Rome  535.  He  defeated  Scipio  in  the  battle  of  Ticinus,  before  he  beat 
Sempronius  in  that  of  Trebia. 

$  Plutarch  misunderstood  Livy,  and  of  the  two  prodigies  which  he  men- 


336 


FABIUS  MAXIMUS. 


upon  one  of  which  these  words  were  very  legible,  Mars  bran « 
iisketh  his  arms.  But  Caius  Flaminius,  then  consul,  was  not 
discouraged  by  any  of  these  things.  He  was  indeed  naturally 
g  man  of  much  fire  and  ambition,  and  besides  was  elated  by 
former  successes,  which  he  had  met  with  contrary  to  all  pro¬ 
bability;  for  against  the  sense  of  the  senate  and  his  colleague, 
he  had  engaged  with  the  Gauls  and  beaten  them.  Fabius  like¬ 
wise  paid  but  little  regard  to  prodigies, *  as  too  absurd  to  be 
believed,  notwithstanding  the  great  effect  they  had  upon  the 
multitude.  But  being  informed  how  small  the  numbers  of  the 
enemy  were,  and  of  their  want  of  money,  he  advised  the  Ro¬ 
mans  to  have  patience;  not  to  give  battle  to  a  man  who  led  on 
an  army  hardened  by  many  conflicts  for  this  very  purpose, 
but  to  send  succours  to  their  allies,  and  to  secure  the  towns  that 
were  in  their  possession,  until  the  vigour  of  the  enemy  expir¬ 
ed  of  itself,  like  a  flame  for  want  of  fuel. 

He  could  not,  however,  prevail  upon  Flaminius.  That 
general  declared  he  would  never  suffer  the  war  to  approach 
Rome;  nor,  like  Camillus  of  old,  dispute  within  the  walls, 
who  should  be  master  of  the  city.  He  therefore  ordered  the 
tribunes  to  draw  out  the  forces,  and  mounted  his  horse,  but 
was  thrown  headlong  off,t  the  horse  without  any  visible  cause 
being  seized  with  a  fright  and  trembling*  yet  he  persisted  in 
his  resolution  of  marching  out  to  meet  Hannibal,  and  drew 
up  his  army  near  the  lake  called  Thrasymenus,t  in  Tuscany. 

While  the  armies  were  engaged  there  happened  an  earth - 

tions,  made  but  one.  Livy  says, — “  At  Falerium  the  sky  was  seen  to  open, 
and  in  the  void  space  a  great  light  appeared.  The  lots  at  Praeneste  shrunk 
of  their  own  accord,  and  one  of  them  dropped  down,  whereon  was  written. 
Mars  brandisheth  his  sword.'9 — Li v.  lib.  xxii.  These  lots  were  bits  of  oak 
handsomely  wrought,  with  some  ancient  characters  inscribed  upon  them. 
When  any  came  to  consult  them,  the  coffer  in  which  they  were  kept  was 
opened,  and  a  child  having  first  shaken  them  together,  drew  out  one  from 
the  rest,  which  contained  the  answer  to  the  querist’s  demand.  As  to  the 
lots  being  shrunk,  which  Livy  mentions,  and  which  was  considered  as  a  bad 
omen,  no  doubt  the  priests  had  two  sets,  a  smaller  and  a  greater,  which  they 
played  upon  the  people’s  superstition  as  they  pleased.  Cicero  says  they 
were  very  little  regarded  in  his  time. — Cic .  de  Divinat .  lib.  ii. 

*  If  Fabius  was  not  moved  by  those  prodigies,  it  was  not  because  he  de¬ 
spised  them,  (as  his  colleague  did,  who,  according  to  Livy,  neither  feared 
the  gods,  nor  took  advice  of  men,)  but  because  he  hoped,  by  appeasing  the 
anger  of  the  gods,  to  render  the  prodigies  ineffectual.  It  was  not  Fabius, 
however,  but  Cn.  Servilius  Geminus,  who  was  colleague  to  Flaminius. 

f  This  fall  from  his  horse,  which  was  considered  as  an  ill  omen,  was  fol¬ 
lowed  by  another  as  bad.  When  the  ensign  attempted  to  pull  his  standard 
out  of  the  ground  in  order  to  march,  he  had  not  strength  enough  to  do  it. 
But  where  is  the  wonder,  says  Cicero,  to  have  a  horse  take  fright,  or  to  find 
a  standard-bearer  feebly  endeavouring  to  draw  out  +he  standard 
had  perhaps  purposely  struck  deeD  into  the  ground > 

r  Now  the  lake  of  Perugia. 


FABIUS  MAXIMUS. 


337 


quake,  which  overturned  whole  cities,  changed  the  course  ot 
rivers,  and  tcre  oflf  the  tops  of  mountains;  yet  not  one  of  the 
combatants  was  in  the  least  sensible  of  that  violent  motion. 
Flaminius  himself  having  greatly  signalized  his  strengtn  ana 
valour,  fell,  and  with  him  the  bravest  of  his  troops.  The  rest 
being  routed,  a  great  carnage  ensued;  full  fifteen  thousand 
were  slain,  and  as  many  taken  prisoners.*  Hannibal  was 
very  desirous  of  discovering  the  body  of  Flaminius,  that  he 
might  bury  it  with  due  honour,  as  a  tribute  to  his  bravery; 
but  he  could  not  find  it,  nor  could  and  account  be  given  what 
became  of  it. 

When  the  Romans  lost  the  battle  of  Trebia,  neither  the  ge¬ 
nerals  sent  a  true  account  of  it,  nor  the  messenger  represented 
it  as  it  was:  both  pretended  the  victory  was  doubtful.  But  as 
to  the  last,  as  soon  as  the  praetor  Pomponius  was  apprised  ot 
it,  he  assembled  the  people,  and  without  disguising  the  mat¬ 
ter  in  the  least,  made  this  declaration: — “  Romans,  we  have 
lost  a  great  battle,  our  army  is  cut  to  pieces,  and  Flaminius 
the  consul  is  slain;  think,  therefore,  what  is  to  be  done  for 
your  safety.”  The  same  commotion  which  a  furious  wind 
causes  in  the  ocean,  did  these  words  of  the  praetor  produce  in 
so  vast  a  multitude.  In  the  first  consternation  they  could  not 
fix  upon  any  thing;  but  at  length  all  agreed  that  affairs  re¬ 
quired  the  direction  of  an  absolute  power,  which  they  called 
the  dictatorship;  and  that  a  man  should  be  fixed  upon  for  it, 
who  would  exercise  it  with  steadiness  and  intrepidity:  that 
such  a  man  was  Fabius  Maximus,  who  had  a  spirit  and  dig¬ 
nity  of  manners  equal  to  so  great  a  command,  and  besides  was 
of  an  age  in  which  the  vigour  of  the  body  is  sufficient  to  exe¬ 
cute  the  purposes  of  the  mind,  and  courage  is  tempered  witk 
prudence. 

Pursuant  to  these  resolutions,  Fabius  was  chosen  dictator,! 


*  Notwithstanding*  this  complete  victory,  Hannibal  lost  only  fifteen  hun¬ 
dred  men;  for  he  fought  the  Homans  at  great  advantage,  having  drawn  them 
into  an  ambuscade  between  the  hills  of  Cortona  and  the  lake  Thrasymenus. 
Livy  and  Valerius  Maximus  make  the  number  of  prisoners  only  six  thou¬ 
sand;  but  Polybius  says  they  were  much  more  numerous.  About  ten  thou¬ 
sand  Romans,  most  of  them  wounded,  made  their  escape,  and  took  their 
route  to  Rome,  where  few  of  them  arrived,  the  rest  dying  of  their  wounds 
before  they  reached  the  capital.  Two  mothers  were  so  transported  •with 
joy,  one  at  the  gate  of  the  city,  when  she  saw  her  son  unexpectedly  appear 
and  the  other  at  home,  where  she  found  her  son,  that  they  both  expired  on 
the  spot. 

|  A  dictator  could  not  be  regularly  named  but  by  the  surviving  consul, 
and  Servilius  being  with  the  army,  the  people  appointed  Fabius  by  theii 
own  authority,  with  the  title  of  pro-dictator.  However,  the  gratitude  of 
Rome  allowed  his  descendants  to  put  dictator,  instead  of  nro-dictator,  in 
the  list  of  his  titles. 

Vol.  i. - 2  Y  30* 


338 


FAB  I  US  MAXIMUS. 


and  he  appointed  Lucias  Minutius  his  general  of  the  horse. * 
But  first  he  desired  permission  of  the  senate  to  make  use  of 
a  horse  when  in  the  field.  This  was  forbidden  by  an  ancient 
law,  either  because  they  placed  their  greatest  strength  in  the 
infantry,  and  therefore  chose  that  the  commandcr-in-chief 
should  be  always  posted  among  them;  or  else  because  they 
would  have  the  dictator,  whose  power  in  all  other  respects 
was  very  great,  and  indeed  arbitrary,  in  this  case  at  least  ap¬ 
pear  to  be  dependent  upon  the  people.  In  the  next  place, 
Fabius,  willing  to  show  the  high  authority  and  grandeur  of 
his  office,  in  order  to  make  the  people  more  tractable  and  sub¬ 
missive,  appeared  in  public  with  twenty-four  Victors  carrying 
the  fasces  before  him;  and  when  the  surviving  consul  met  him, 
lie  sent  one  of  his  officers  to  order  him  to  dismiss  his  Victors 
and  the  other  ensigns  of  his  employment,  and  to  join  him  as 
a  private  man. 

Then  beginning  with  an  act  of  religion,  which  is  the  best 
of  all  beginnings, t  and  assuring  the  people  that  their  defeats 
were  not  owing  to  the  cowardice  of  the  soldiers,  but  to  the 
general’s  neglect  of  the  sacred  rites  and  auspices,  he  exhorted 
them  to  entertain  no  dread  of  the  enemy,  but  by  extraordi¬ 
nary  honours  to  propitiate  the  gods.  Not  that  he  wanted  to 
infuse  into  them  a  spirit  of  superstition,  but  to  confirm  their 
valour  by  piety,  and  to  deliver  them  from  every  other  fear  by 
a  sense  of  the  divine  protection.  On  that  occasion  he  con¬ 
sulted  several  of  those  mysterious  books  of  the  Sybils,  which 
contained  matters  of  great  use  to  the  state;  and  it  is  said,  that 
some  of  the  prophecies  found  there  perfectly  agreed  with  the 
circumstances  of  those  times;  but  it  wTas  not  lawful  for  him  to 
divulge  them.  However,  in  full  assembly  he  vowed  to  the 
gods  a  ver  sacrum,  that  is,  all  the  young  which  the  next  spring 
should  produce,  on  the  mountains,  the  fields,  the  rivers,  and 
meadows  of  Italy,  from  the  goats,  the  swine,  the  sheep,  and 
the  cows,  f  He  likewise  vow^ed  to  exhibit  the  great  games  in 
honour  of  the  gods,  and  to  expend  upon  those  games  three 
hundred  and  thirty-three  thousand  sesterces ,  three  hundred  and 
thirty-three  denarii ,  and  one  third  of  a  denarius ;  which  sum  in 
our  Greek  money  is  eighty-three  thousand  five  hundred  and 
eighty-three  drachmas  and  two  oboli.  What  his  reason  might 
be  for  fixing  upon  tha;  precise  number  is  not  easy  to  deter¬ 
mine,  unless  it  were  on  account  of  the  perfection  of  the  num- 


*  According’  to  Polybius  and  Livy,  his  name  was  not  Lucius,  but  Marcus 
Minutius;  nor  was  he  pitched  upon  by  Fabius,  but  by  the  people. 

j  K&MlgJiv  cLp%'jU'cV0?  M  fieev  tLfQjw. 

t  This  vow  had  formerly  been  made  to  Mars  bv  Aulus  Cornelius.  anJ 
neglected. 


FABIUS  MAXIMUS. 


339 


her  three,  as  being  the  first  of  odd  numbers,  the  first  of  plu¬ 
rals,  and  containing  in  itself  the  first  differences,  and  the  first 
elements  of  all  numbers. 

Fabius  having  taught  the  people  to  repose  themselves  on 
acts  of  religion,  made  them  more  easy  as  to  future  events. 
For  his  own  part,  he  placed  all  his  hopes  of  victory  in  him¬ 
self,  believing  that  heaven  blesses  men  with  success,  on  ac¬ 
count  of  their  virtue  and  prudence;  and  therefore  he  watched 
the  motions  of  Hannibal,  not  with  a  design  to  give  him  battle 
but  by  length  of  time  to  waste  his  spirit  and  vigour,  and  gradu 
ally  to  destroy  him  by  means  of  his  superiority  in  men  and 
money.  To  secure  himself  against  the  enemy’s  horse,  he 
took  care  to  encamp  above  them  on  high  and  mountainous 
places.  When  they  sat  still,  he  did  the  same;  when  they  were 
in  motion,  he  showed  himself  upon  the  heights,  at  such  a  dis¬ 
tance  as  not  to  be  obliged  to  fight  against  his  inclination,  and 
yet  near  enough  to  keep  them  in  perpetual  alarm,  as  if  amidst 
his  arts,  to  gain  time,  he  intended  every  moment  to  give  them 
battle. 

These  dilatory  proceedings  exposed  him  to  contempt  among 
the  Romans  in  general,  and  even  in  his  own  army.  The  ene¬ 
my,  too,  excepting  Hannibal,  thought  him  a  man  of  no  spirit. 
He  alone  was  sensible  of  the  keenness  of  Fabius,  and  of  the 
manner  in  which  he  intended  to  carry  on  the  war,  and  there¬ 
fore  was  determined,  if  possible,  either  by  stratagem  or  force, 
to  bring  him  to  a  battle,  concluding  that  otherwise  the  Cartha¬ 
ginians  must  be  undone;  since  they  could  not  decide  the  mat¬ 
ter  in  the  field,  where  they  had  the  advantage,  but  must  gra¬ 
dually  wear  away,  and  be  reduced  to  nothing,  when  the  dis¬ 
pute  was  only  who  should  be  superior  in  men  and  money. 
Hence  it  was  that  he  exhausted  the  whole  art  of  war,  like  a 
skilful  wrestler,  who  watches  every  opportunity  to  lay  hold 
of  his  adversary.  Sometimes  he  advanced  and  alarmed  him 
with  the  apprehensions  of  an  attack:  sometimes  by  marching 
and  counter-marching  he  led  him  from  place  to  place,  hoping 
to  draw  him  from  his  plan  of  caution.*  But  as  he  was  fully 

Kersuaded  of  its  utility,  he  kept  immoveable  to  his  resolution. 

linutius,  the  general  of  the  horse,  gave  him,  however,  no 
small  trouble  by  his  unseasonable  courage  and  heat,  harangu 
ing  the  army,  and  filling  them  with  a  furious  desire  to  come 
to  action,  and  a  vain  confidence  of  success.  Thus  the  soldiers 
were  brought  to  despise  Fabius,  and  by  way  of  derision  to 
call  him  the  pedagogue  of  Hannibal, t  while  they  extolled  Mi- 


*  Ex.2»rM  rw  xj7ri g  Koytruaiv  fiaX'j/utvo;. 

f  For  the  office  of  n  pedagogue  of  old  was  fas  th*  implies)  to  0X 


340 


FAB  JUS  MAXIMUS. 


nutius  as  a  great  man,  and  one  that  acted  up  to  t*te  dignity  of 
Rome.  This  led  Minutius  to  give  a  freer  scope  to  his  arro¬ 
gance  and  pride,  and  to  ridicule  the  dictator  for  encamping 
constantly  upon  the  mountains, — “  As  if  he  did  it  on  pur¬ 
pose  that  his  men  might  more  clearly  behold  Italy  laid  waste 
with  fire  and  sword.”  And  he  asked  the  friends  of  Fabius, 
“  Whether  he  intended  to  take  his  army  up  into  heaven,  as 
he  had  bid  adieu  to  the  world  below,  or  whether  he  would 
screen  himself  from  the  enemy  with  clouds  and  fogs?”  When 
the  dictator’s  friends  brought  him  an  account  of  these  asper¬ 
sions,  and  exhorted  him  to  wipe  them  off  by  risking  a  battle; 
“  In  that  case,”  said  he,  “I  should  be  of  a  mere  dastardly 
spirit  than  they  represent  me,  if  through  fear  of  insults  and 
reproaches,  I  should  depart  from  my  own  resolution.  But 
to  fear  for  my  country  is  not  a  disagreeable  fear.  That  man 
is  unworthy  of  such  a  command  as  thi-s,  who  shrinks  under 
calumnies  and  slanders,  and  complies  with  the  humour  of 
those  whom  he  ought  to  govern,  and  whose  folly  and  rashness 
it  is  his  duty  to  restrain.” 

After  this,  Hannibal  made  a  disagreeable  mistake.  For  in 
tending  to  lead  his  army  farther  from  Fabius,  and  to  move  into 
a  part  of  the  country  that  would  afford  him  forage,  he  ordered 
the  guides,  immediately  after  supper,  to  conduct  him  to  the 
plains  of  Casinum.*  They  taking  the  word  wrong,  by  reason 
of  his  barbarous  pronunciation  of  it,  led  his  forces  to  the  bor¬ 
ders  of  Campania,  near  the  town  of  Casilinum,  through  which 
runs  the  river  Lothronus,  which  the  Romans  call  Vulturnus. 
The  adjacent  country  is  surrounded  by  mountains,  except  only 
a  valley  that  stretches  out  to  the  sea.  Near  the  sea  the  ground 
is  very  marshy  and  full  of  large  banks  of  sand,  by  reason  of 
the  overflowing  of  the  river.  The  sea  is  there  very  rough, 
and  the  coast  almost  impracticable. 

As  soon  as  Hannibal  was  entered  into  this  valley,  Fabius, 
availing  himself  of  his  knowledge  of  the  country,  seized  the 
narrow  outlet,  and  placed  in  it  a  guard  of  four  thousand  men 
The  main  body  of  his  army  he  posted  to  advantage  on  the 

tend  the  children,  to  carry  them  up  and  down  and  conduct  them  home 
again. 

*  Hannibal  had  ravaged  Samnium,  plundered  the  territory  of  Beneventum, 
a  Roman  colony,  and  laid  siege  to  Tilesia,  a  citv  at  the  foot  of  the  Appe- 
nines.  But  finding  that  neither  the  ravaging  of  the  country,  nor  even  the 
taking  of  some  cities,  could  make  Fabius  quit  his  eminences,  he  resolved 
to  make  use  of  a  stronger  bait,  which  was  to  enter  Campania,  the  finest 
country  in  Italy,  and  lay  it  waste  under  the  dictator’s  eyes,  hoping  by  that 
means  to  bring  him  to  an  action.  But,  by  the  mistake  which  Plutarch  men¬ 
tions,  his  guides,  instead  of  conducting  him  to  the  plains  of  Casinum,  led 
him  into  the  narrow  passes  of  Casilinum,  which  divides  Samnium  from 
Campania 


FAB1US  MAXIMUS. 


341 


surrounding  hills,  and  with  the  lightest  and  most  active  of  his 
troops,  fell  upon  the  enemy’s  rear,  put  their  whole  army  in 
disorder  and  killed  about  eight  hundred  of  them, 

Hannibal  then  wanted  to  get  clear  of  so  disadvantageous  a 
situation,  and  in  revenge  of  the  mistake  the  guides  had  made, 
and  the  danger  they  had  brought  him  into,  he  crucified  them 
all.  But  not  knowing  how  to  drive  the  enemy  from  the 
heights  they  were  masters  of,  and  sensible  besides  of  the  ter¬ 
ror  and  confusion  that  reigned  amongst  his  men,  who  conclud¬ 
ed  themselves  fallen  into  a  snare,  from  which  there  was  no  es¬ 
caping,  he  had  recourse  to  stratagem. 

The  contrivance  was  this:  He  caused  two  thousand  oxen, 
which  he  had  in  his  camp,  to  have  torches  and  dry  bavins  well 
fastened  to  their  horns.  These,  in  the  night,  upon  a  signal 
given,  were  to  be  lighted,  and  the  oxen  to  be  driven  to  the 
mountains,  near  the  narrow  pass  that  was  guarded  by  the  ene¬ 
my.  While  those  that  had  it  in  charge  were  thus  employed, 
he  decamped,  and  marched  slowly  forward.  So  long  as  the 
fire  was  moderate,  and  burnt  only  the  torches  and  bavins,*  the 
oxen  moved  softly  on,  as  they  were  driven  up  the  hills;  and 
the  shepherds  and  herdsmen  on  the  adjacent  heights  took  them 
for  an  army  that  marched  in  order  with  lighted  torches.  But 
when  their  horns  were  burnt  to  the  roots,  and  the  fire  pierced 
to  the  quick,  terrified,  and  mad  with  pain,  they  no  longer  kept 
any  certain  route,  but  ran  up  the  hills,  with  their  foreheads 
and  tails  flaming,  and  setting  every  thing  on  fire  that  came  in 
their  way.  The  Romans  who  guarded  the  pass  were  astonish¬ 
ed;  for  they  appeared  to  them  like  a  great  number  of  men  run¬ 
ning  up  and  down  with  torches,  which  scattered  fire  on  every 
side.  In  their  fears,  of  course,  they  concluded  that  they 
should  be  attacked  and  surrounded  by  the  enemy;  for  which 
reason  they  quitted  the  pass,  and  fled  to  the  main  body  in  the 
camp.  Immediately  Hannibal’s  light-armed  troops  took  pos¬ 
session  of  the  outlet,  and  the  rest  of  his  forces  marched  safely 
through,  loaded  with  a  rich  booty. 

FaSius  discovered  the  stratagem  that  same  night;  for  some 
of  the  oxen,  as  they  were  scattered  about,  fell  into  his  hands; 
but,  for  fear  of  an  ambush  in  the  dark,  he  kept  his  men  ad 
night  under  arms  in  the  camp.  At  break  of  day  he  pursued 
the  enemy,  came  up  with  their  rear,  and  attacked  them;  seve¬ 
ral  skirmishes  ensued  in  the  difficult  passes  of  the  mountains, 
and  Hannibal’s  army  was  put  in  some  disorder,  until  he  de¬ 
tached  from  his  van  a  body  of  Spaniards,  light  and  nimble 
men,  who  were  accustomed  to  climb  such  heights.  These 
tailing  upon  the  heavy-armed  Romans,  cut  off  a  considerable 


A  \jt  /utv  7rvp  o\iyov  >»v,  K'xt  7rifj-KJ~ t  txv 


342 


FAB1US  MAXIMUS. 


number  of  them,  and  obliged  Fabius  to  retire.  This  brought 
upon  him  more  contempt  and  calumny  than  ever;  for  having 
renounced  open  force,  as  if  he  could  subdue  Hannibal  by  com 
auct  and  foresight,  he  appeared  now  to  be  worsted  at  his  own 
weapons.  Hannibal,  to  incense  the  Romans  still  more  against 
him,  when  he  came  to  his  lands,  ordered  them  to  be  spared, 
and  set  a  guard  upon  them,  to  prevent  the  committing  of  the 
least  injury  there,  while  he  was  ravaging  all  the  country  around 
them,  and  laying  it  waste  with  fire.  An  account  of  these 
things  being  brought  to  Rome,  heavy  complaints  were  made 
thereupon.  The  tribunes  alleged  many  articles  of  accusation 
against  him  before  the  people,  chiefly  at  the  instigation  of 
Metilius,  who  had  no  particular  enmity  to  Fabius,  but  being 
strongly  in  the  interest  of  Minutius,  the  general  of  the  horse, 
whose  relation  he  was,  he  thought  by  depressing  Fabius  tc 
raise  his  friend.  The  senate,  too,  was  offended,  particularlv 
with  the  terms  he  had  settled  with  Hannibal  for  the  ransom  of 
prisoners.  For  it  was  agreed  between  them,  that  the  pri¬ 
soners  should  be  exchanged,  man  for  man,  and  that  if  either 
of  them  had  more  than  the  other,  he  should  release  them  for 
two  hundred  and  fifty  drachmas  each  man;*  and  upon  the 
whole  account  there  remained  two  hundred  and  forty  Ro¬ 
mans  unexchanged.  The  senate  determined  not  to  pay  this 
ransom,  and  blamed  Fabius  as  taking  a  step  that  was  against 
the  honour  and  interest  of  the  state,  in  endeavouring  to  re¬ 
cover  men  whom  cowardice  had  betrayed  into  the  hands  of 
the  enemy. 

When  Fabius  was  informed  of  the  resentment  of  his  fellow 
citizens,  he  bore  it  with  invincible  patience;  but  being  in  want 
of  money,  and  not  choosing  to  deceive  Hannibal,  or  to  aban¬ 
don  his  countrymen  in  their  distress,  he  sent  his  son  to  Rome, 
with  orders  to  sell  part  of  his  estate,  and  bring  him  the  money 
immediately.  This  was  punctually  performed  by  his  son,  and 
Fabius  redeemed  the  prisoners;  several  of  whom  afterwards 
offered  to  repay  him,  but  his  generosity  would  not  permit  him 
to  accept  it. 

After  this  he  was  called  to  Rome  by  the  priests,  to  assist  at 
some  of  the  solemn  sacrifices,  and  therefore  was  obliged  to 
leave  the  army  to  Minutius;  but  he  both  charged  him  as  dic¬ 
tator,  and  used  many  arguments  and  entreaties  with  him  as  a 
friend,  not  to  come  to  any  kind  of  action.  The  pains  he  took 
were  lost  upon  Minutius,  for  he  immediately  sought  occasions 
to  fight  the  enemy;  and  observing  one  flay  that  Hannibal  had 

*  Livy  calls  this  argcnti  pondu  bina  et  selibras  in  miiitem;  whence  we  lean:  * 
that  the  Homan  pondo,  or  pound  weight  of  silver,  was  equivalent  to  one 
hundred  Grecian  drachmas ,  or  a  mina . 


FABIUS  MAXIMUS. 


343 


sent  out  great  part  of  his  army  to  forage,  he  attacked  those  thaf 
were  left  behind,  and  drove  them  within  their  entrenchments, 
killing  great  numbers  of  them,  so  that  they  even  feared  he 
would  storm  their  camp;  and  when  the  rest  of  the  Carthagi¬ 
nian  forces  were  returned,  he  retreated  without  loss.*  This 
success  added  to  his  temerity,  and  increased  the  ardour  of  his 
soldiers.  The  report  of  it  soon  reached  Rome,  and  the  advan¬ 
tage  was  represented  as  much  greater  than  it  really  was.  When 
Fabius  was  informed  of  it,  he  said,  he  dreaded  nothing  more 
than  the  success  of  Minutius.  Bat  the  people,  mightily  elated 
with  the  news,  ran  to  the  forum ;  and  their  tribune  Metilius 
harangued  them  from  the  rostrum- ,  highly  extolling  Minutius, 
and  accusing  Fabius  now,  not  of  cowardice  and  want  of  spirit, 
but  of  treachery.  He  endeavoured  also  to  involve  the  prin¬ 
cipal  men  in  Rome  in  the  same  crime,  alleging, — “  that  they 
had  originally  brought  the  war  upon  Italy  for  the  destruction 
of  the  common  people,  and  had  put  the  commonwealth  under 
the  absolute  direction  of  one  man,  who,  by  his  slow  proceed 
ings,  gave  Hannibal  opportunity  to  establish  himself  in  the 
country,  and  to  draw  fresh  forces  from  Carthage,  in  order  to 
effect  a  total  conquest  of  Italy.  ” 

Fabius  disdained  to  make  any  defence  against  these  allega 
tions  of  the  tribune;  he  only  declared,  that  6 6  He  would  finish 
the  sacrifice,  and  other  religious  rites,  as  soon  as  possible,  that 
he  might  return  to  the  army,  and  punish  Minutius  for  fighting 
contrary  to  his  orders. 99  This  occasioned  a  great  tumult 
imong  the  people,  who  were  alarmed  at  the  danger  of  Minu¬ 
tius.  For  it  is  in  the  dictator’s  power  to  imprison  and  inflict 
capital  punishment,  without  form  or  trial;  and  they  thought 
that  the  wrath  of  Fabius,  now  provoked,  though  he  was  natu¬ 
rally  very  mild  and  patient,  would  prove  heavy  and  implaca¬ 
ble.  But  fear  kept  them  all  silent,  except  Metilius,  whose 
person,  as  tribune  of  the  people,  could  not  to  be  touched,  (for 
the  tribunes  are  the  only  officers  of  state  that  retain  their  au¬ 
thority  after  the  appointing  of  a  dictator).  Metilius  entreated, 
insisted  that  the  people  should  not  give  up  Minutius,  to  suffer, 
perhaps,  what  Manlius  Torquatus  caused  his  own  son  to  suffer, 
whom  he  beheaded,  when  crowned  with  laurel  for  his  victo¬ 
ry,  but  that  they  should  take  from  Fabius  his  power  to  play 
the  tyrant,  and  leave  the  direction  of  affairs.to  one  who  was 
both  able  and  willing  to  save  his  country.  The  people,  though 
much  affected  with  this  speech,  did  not  venture  to  divest  Fa¬ 
bius  of  the  dictatorship,  notwithstanding  the  odium  he  had  in- 


*  Others  say,  that  he  lost  five  thousand  of  his  men,  ar  c!  that  the  enemy’* 
k*s  did  not  exceed  his  by  more  than  a  thousand. 


344 


FABIUS  MAXIMUS. 


cur  red,  but  decreed  that  Minutius  should  share  the  command 
with  him,  and  have  equal  authority  in  conducting  the  war;  a 
thing  never  before  practised  in  Rome.  There  was,  however, 
another  instance  of  it  soon  after,  upon  the  unfortunate  action 
of  Cannae;  for  Marcus  Junius  the  dictator,  being  then  in  the 
field,  they  created  another  dictator,  Fabius  Buteo,  to  fill  up 
the  senate,  many  of  whose  members  were  slain  in  that  battle. 
There  was  this  difference,  indeed,  that  Buteo  had  no  sooner 
enrolled  the  new  senators,  than  he  dismissed  his  lictors ,  and  the 
rest  of  his  retinue,  and  mixed  with  the  crowd,  stopping  some 
time  in  th e  forum  about  his  own  affairs  as  a  private  man. 

When  the  people  had  thus  invested  Minutius  with  a  power 
equal  to  that  of  the  dictator,  they  thought  they  should  find 
Fabius  extremely  humbled  and  dejected;  but  it  soon  appeared 
that  they  knew  not  the  man.  For  he  did  not  reckon  their 
mistake  any  unhappiness  to  him;  but,  as  Diogenes  the  philoso 
pher,  when  one  said, — “  They  deride  you,”  answered, — 
“  Well,  but  I  am  not  derided;”  accounting  those  only  to  be 
ridiculed,  who  feel  the  ridicule,  and  are  discomposed  at  it;  so 
Fabius  bore,  without  emotion,  all  that  happened  to  himself, 
herein  confirming  that  position  in  philosophy,  which  affirms 
that  a  wise  and  good  man  can  suffer  no  disgrace .  But  he  was  un¬ 
der  no  small  concern  for  the  public,  on  account  of  the  unadvis¬ 
ed  proceedings  of  the  people,  who  had  put  it  in  the  power  of  a 
rash  man  to  indulge  his  indiscreet  ambition  tor  military  dis¬ 
tinction;  and  apprehensive  that  Minutius,  infatuated  with  am¬ 
bition,  might  take  some  fatal  step,  he  left  Rome  very  privately. 

Upon  his  arrival  at  the  camp,  he  found  the  arrogance  of  Mi 
nutius  grown  to  such  a  height,  that  it  was  no  longer  to  be  en 
dured.  Fabius,  therefore,  refused  to  comply  with  his  demand 
of  having  the  army  under  his  orders  every  other  day,  and,  in¬ 
stead  of  that,  divided  the  forces  with  him,  choosing  rather  to 
have  the  full  command  of  a  part,  than  the  direction  of  the  whole 
by  turns.  He  therefore  took  the  first  and  fourth  legions  him¬ 
self,  leaving  the  second  and  third  to  Minutius;  and  the  confed¬ 
erate  forces  were  likewise  equally  divided. 

Minutius  valued  himself  highly  upon  this,  that  the  power 
of  the  greatest  and  most  arbitrary  office  in  the  state  was  con¬ 
trolled  and  reduced  for  his  sake.  But  Fabius  put  him  in  mind, 
“That  it  was  not  Fabius  whom  he  had  to  contend  with,  but 
Hannibal;  that  if  he  would,  notwithstanding,  consider  his  col¬ 
league,  as  his  rival,  he  must  take  care  lest  he  who  had  so  suc¬ 
cessfully  carried  his  point  with  the  people,  should  one  day  ap 
pear  to  have  their  safety  and  interest  less  at  heart  than  the  man 
who  had  beeji  so  ill  treated  by  them.”  Minutius  considering 
this  as  the  effect  of  an  ob3  man's  pique,  and  taking  the  trcF/Ds 


FABIUS  MAXIMUS. 


d45 


that  tell  to  his  lot,  marked  out  a  separate  can  p  for  them.* 
Hannibal  was  well  informed  of  all  that  passed,  and  watched 
his  opportunity  to  take  advantage  of  it. 

There  was  a  hill  betwixt  him  and  the  enemy,  not  difficult  to 
take  possession  of,  which  yet  would  afford  an  army  a  very  safe 
and  commodious  post.  The  ground  about  it,  at  a  distance, 
seemed  quite  level  and  plain,  though  there  were  in  it  several 
ditches  and  hollows:  and,  therefore,  though  he  might  privately 
have  seized  that  post  with  ease,  yet  he  left  it  as  a  bait  to  draw 
the  enemy  to  an  engagement.  But  as  soon  as  he  saw  Minu 
tius  parted  from  Fabius,  he  took  an  opportunity  in  the  night 
to  place  a  numbert  of  men  in  those  ditches  and  hollows;  and 
early  in  the  morning  he  openly  sent  out  a  small  party,  as  if 
designed  to  make  themselves  masters  of  the  hill,  but  really  to 
draw  Minutius  to  dispute  it  with  them.  The  event  answered 
his  expectation;  for  Minutius  sent  out  his  light-armed  troops 
first,  then  the  cavalry,  and  at  last,  when  he  saw  Hannibal  send 
reinforcements  to  his  men  upon  the  hill,  he  marched  out  with 
all  his  forces  in  order  of  battle,  and  attacked  with  great  vi¬ 
gour  the  Carthaginians,  who  were  marking  out  a  camp  upon 
the  hill.  The  fortune  of  the  day  was  doubtful,  until  Hanni¬ 
bal,  perceiving  that  the  enemy  had  fallen  into  the  snare,  and 
that  their  rear  was  open  to  the  ambuscade,  instantly  gave  the 
signal.  Hereupon  his  men  rushed  out  on  all  sides,  and  ad¬ 
vanced  with  loud  shouts,  and  cutting  in  pieces  the  hindmost 
ranks,  they  put  the  Romans  in  disorder  and  terror  inexpressi¬ 
ble.  Even  the  spirit  of  Minutius  began  to  shrink;  and  he 
looked  first  upon  one  officer  and  then  upon  another,  but  not 
one  of  them  durst  stand  his  ground:  they  all  betook  them¬ 
selves  to  flight,  and  the  flight  itself  proved  fatal;  for  the  Nu- 
midians,  now  victorious,  galloped  round  the  plain,  and  killed 
those  whom  they  found  dispersed. 

Fabius  was  not  ignorant  of  the  danger  of  his  countrymen. 
Foreseeing  what  would  happen,  he  kept  his  forces  under  arms, 
and  took  care  to  be  informed  how  the  action  went  on:  nor  did 
he  trust  to  the  reports  of  others,  but  he  himself  looked  out 
from  an  eminence  not  far  from  his  camp.  When  he  saw  the 
army  of  his  colleague  surrounded  and  broken,  and  the  cry- 
reached  him,  not  like  that  of  men  standing  the  charge,  but  of 
persons  flying  in  great  dismay,  J  he  smote  upon  his  thigh,  ana 

*  About  fifteen  hundred  paces  from  Fabius. 

j-  Five  hundred  horse  and  five  thousand  foot. — Polyb. 

i  Homer  mentions  the  custom  of  smiting1  upon  the  thigh  in  time  of  trou* 
hie K cti  a>'  7rt?rHnyrro  ynftto'  and  we  learn  from  scripture,  that  it  was  prac¬ 
tised  in  the  east. 

Compare  Horn.  II.  /u.  v.  162,  and  this  passage  of  Plutarch,  with  Jer.  xxxi. 
19,  and  Fzek.  xxi.  12. 

Vol.  I. - o  z 


31 


346 


FABIUS  MAXIMUS. 


with  a  deep  sigh  said  to  his  friends  about  him,— “  Ye  gods! 
how  much  sooner  than  I  expected,  and  yet  later  than  his  in¬ 
discreet  proceedings  required,  has  Minutius  ruined  himself!55 
Then  having  commanded  the  standard-bearers  to  advance,  and 
the  whole  army  to  follow,  he  addressed  them  in  these  words’ 
“  Now,  my  brave  soldiers,  if  any  one  has  a  regard  for  Marcus 
Minutius,  let  him  exert  himself;  for  he  deserves  assistance  foi 
his  valour  and  the  love  he  bears  his  country.  If,  in  his  haste 
to  drive  out  the  enemy,  he  has  committed  any  error,  this  is 
not  a  time  to  find  fault  with  him.55 

The  first  sight  of  Fabius  frightened  away  the  Numidia  is. 
who  were  picking  up  stragglers  in  the  field.  Then  he  attacl  ed 
those  who  were  charging  the  Romans  in  the  rear.  Such  as 
made  resistance  he  slew;  but  the  greatest  part  retreated  to 
their  own  army,  before  the  communication  was  cut  off,  lest 
they  should  themselves  be  surrounded  in  their  turn.  Han¬ 
nibal  seeing  this  change  of  fortune,  and  finding  that  Fabius 
pushed  on  through  the  hottest  of  the  battle,  with  a  vigour 
above  his  years,  to  come  up  to  Minutius  upon  the  hill,  put  an 
end  to  the  dispute,  and  having  sounded  a  retreat,  retired  into 
his  camp.  The  Romans,  on  their  part,  were  not  sorry  when 
the  action  was  over.  Hannibal,  as  he  was  drawing  off,  is  re¬ 
ported  to  have  said  smartly  to  those  that  were  by, — “Did  not 
I  often  tell  you,  that  this  cloud  would  one  day  burst  upon  us 
from  the  mountains,  with  all  the  fury  of  a  storm?55 

After  the  battle,  Fabius  having  collected  the  spoils  of  such 
Carthaginians  as  were  left  dead  upon  the  field,  returned  to  his 
post;  nor  did  he  let  fall  one  haughty  or  angry  word  against 
his  colleague.  As  for  Minutius,  having  called  his  men  to¬ 
gether,  he  thus  expressed  himself: — “  Friends  and  fellow-sol¬ 
diers,  not  to  err  at  all  in  the  management  of  great  affairs,  is 
above  the  wisdom  of  men;  but  it  is  the  part  of  a  pruds°nt  and 
good  man,  to  learn,  from  his  errors  and  miscarriages,  to  cor¬ 
rect  himself  for  the  future.  For  my  nart,  I  confes*,  that 
though  fortune. has  frowned  upon  me  a  little,  I  have  much  to 
thank  her  for.  For  what  I  could  not  be  brought  to  be  sensible 
of  in  so  long  a  time,  I  have  learned  in  the  small  compass  of 
one  day,  that  I  know  not  how  to  command,  but  have  need  to 
be  under  the  direction  of  another;  and  from  this  moment  I  bid- 
adieu  to  the  ambition  of  getting  the  better  of  a  man  whom  it 
is  an  honour  to  be  foiled  by.  In  all  other  respects  the  dicta¬ 
tor  shall  be  your  commander;  but  in  the  due  expressions  of 
gratitude  to  him,  I  will  be  your  leader  still,  by  being  the  first 
to  show  an  example  of  obedience  and  submission.55 

He  then  ordered  the  ensigns  to  advance  with  the  eagles,  and 
the  troops  to  follow,  himself  marching  at  the  head,  to  the  camp 
of  Fabius.  Being  admitted,  he  went  directly  to  his  tent 


FABIUS  MAXIMUS. 


347 


The  whole  army  waited  with  impatience  for  the  event  When 
Fabius  came  out,  Minutius  fixed  his  standard  before  him,  and 
with  a  loud  voice  saluted  him  by  the  name  of  Father ;  at  the 
same  time  his  soldiers  called  those  of  Fabius  their  Patrons ,  an 
appellation  which  freed-men  gave  to  those  that  enfranchise 
them.  These  respects  being  paid,  and  silence  taken  place, 
Minutius  thus  addressed  himself  to  the  dictator: — “  You  have 
this  day,  Fabius,  obtained  two  victories,  one  over  the  enemy 
by  your  valour,  the  other  over  your  colleague  by  your  pru¬ 
dence  and  humanity.  By  the  former  you  saved  us,  by  the  lat¬ 
ter  you  have  instructed  us;  and  Hannibal’s  victory  over  us,  is 
not  more  disgraceful  than  your’s  is  honourable  and  salutary  to 
us.  I  call  you  Father ,  not  knowing  a  more  honourable  name, 
and  am  more  indebted  to  you  than  to  my  real  father.  To  him 
I  owe  my  being,  but  to  you  the  preservation  of  my  life,  and 
the  lives  of  all  these  brave  men.”  After  this,  he  threw  him¬ 
self  into  the  arms  of  Fabius,  and  the  soldiers  of  each  army 
embraced  one  another,  with  every  expression  of  tenderness, 
and  with  tears  of  joy. 

Not  long  after  this,  Fabius  laid  down  the  dictatorship,  and 
consuls  were  created.*  The  first  of  these  kept  to  the  plans 
which  Fabius  had  laid  down.  He  took  care  not  to  come  to  a 
pitched  battle  with  Hannibal,  but  sent  succours  to  the  allies  of 
Rome,  and  prevented  any  revolt  in  their  cities.  But  when 
Terentius  Varro,t  a  man  of  obscure  birth,  and  remarkable 
only  for  his  temerity  and  servile  complaisance  to  the  people, 
rose  to  the  consulship,  it  soon  appeared  that  his  boldness  and 
inexperience  would  bring  him  to  risk  the  very  being  of  the 
commonwealth;  for  he  loudly  insisted  in  the  assemblies  of  the 
people,  that  the  war  stood  still  whilst  it  was  under  the  con¬ 
duct  of  the  Fabii;  but  for  his  part  he  would  take  but  one  day 
to  get  sight  of  the  enemy,  and  to  beat  him.  With  these  pro¬ 
mises  he  so  prevailed  on  the  multitude,  that  he  raised  greater 
forces  than  Rome  had  ever  had  on  foot  before  in  her  most  dan¬ 
gerous  w’ars;  for  he  mustered J  no  fewer  than  eighty-eight 

*  According1  to  Livy,  Fabius,  after  the  six  months  of  his  dictatorship  were 
expired,  resigned  the  army  to  the  consuls  of  that  year,  Servilius  and  Ati- 
lius;  the  latter  having1  been  appointed  in  the  room  of  Flaminius,  who  was 
killed  in  battle.  But  Plutarch  follows  Polybius,  who  says,  that  as  the  time 
for  the  election  of  new  consuls  approached,  the  Romans  named  L.  JEmilius 
Paulus  and  Terentius  Varro  consuls,  after  which  the  dictators  resigned 
their  charge. 

t Varro  was  the  son  of  a  butcher,  and  had  followed  his  father’s  profession 
is  youth;  but  growing  rich  he  had  forsaken  that  mean  calling;  and,  by 
the  favour  of  the  people,  procured  by  supporting  the  most  turbulent  of 
their  tribunes,  he  obtained  the  consulate. 

t  It  was  usual  with  the  Romans  to  muster  every  year  four  legions,  which 
consisting,  in  difficult  times,  each  of  five  thousand  Roman  foot,  ano  thre* 


348 


FABIUS  MAXIMUS 


thousand  men.  Hereupon  Fabius,  and  otherwise  and  expen 
enced  persons  among  the  Romans,  were  greatly  alarmed;  be¬ 
cause  they  saw  no  resource  for  the  state,  if  such  a  number  of 
their  youth  should  be  cut  off.  They  addressed  themselves, 
therefore,  to  the  other  consul,  Paulus  iEmilius,  a  man  of  great 
experience  in  war,  but  disagreeable  to  the  people,  and  at  the 
same  time  afraid  of  them,  for  they  had  formerly  set  a  consi¬ 
derable  fine  upoa  him.  Fabius,  however,  encouraged  him  to 
withstand  the  temerity  of  his  colleague,  telling  him, — “That 
the  dispute  he  had  to  support  for  his  country  was  not  so  much 
with  Hannibal  as  with  Varro.  The  latter,”  said  he,  “will 
hasten  to  an  engagement,*  because  he  knows  not  his  own 
strength;  and  the  former  because  he  knows  his  own  weakness. 
But  believe  me,  iEmilius,  I  deserve  more  attention  than  Varro, 
with  respect  to  the  affairs  of  Hannibal;  and  I  do  assure  you, 
that  if  the  Romans  come  to  no  battle  with  him  this  year,  he 
will  either  be  undone  by  his  stay  in  Italy,  or  else  be  obliged 
to  quit  it.  Even  now  when  he  seems  to  be  victorious,  and  to 
•carry  all  before  him,  notone  of  his  enemies  has  quitted  the 
Roman  interest,  and  not  a  third  part  of  the  forces  remains, 
which  he  brought  from  home  with  him.”  To  this  iEmilius 
is  said  to  have  answered, — “My  friend,  when  I  consider  my¬ 
self  only,  I  conclude  it  better  for  me  to  fall  upon  the  weapons 
of  the  enemy  than  by  the  sentence  of  my  own  countrymen. 
However,  since  the  state  of  public  affairs  is  so  critical,  I  will 
endeavour  to  approve  myself  a  good  general,  and  had  rather 
appear  such  to  you  than  to  all  who  oppose  you,  and  who  would 
draw  me,  willing  or  unwilling,  to  their  party.”  With  these 
sentiments  ^Emilius  began  his  operations. 

But  Varro,  having  brought  his  colleague  to  agree, t  that  they 
should  command  alternately  each  his  day,  when  his  turn  came, 
took  post  over  against  Hannibal,  on  the  banks  of  the  Aufidus, 
near  the  village  of  Cannae,  f  As  soon  as  it  was  light  he  gave 

hundred  horse  and  a  battalion  of  Latins  equal  to  that  number,  amounted 
in  the  whole  to  42,400.  But  this  year  instead  of  four  leg-ions,  they  raised 
eight. 

*  The  best  dependence  of  Varro  was,  undoubtedly,  to  prolong  the  war, 
that  Hannibal,  who  was  already  weakened,  might  wear  himself  out  by  de- 
grees;  and,  for  the  same  reason,  it  was  Hannibal’s  business  to  fight. 

f  It  was  a  fixed  rule  with  the  Romans,  that  the  consuls,  when  they  went 
upon  the  same  service,  should  have  the  command  of  the  army  by  turns. 

+  Cannae,  according  to  Livy,  Appian,  and  Florus,  was  only  a  poor  village, 
which  afterwards  became  famous  on  account  of  the  battle  fought  near  it; 
but  Polybius,  who  lived  near  the  time  of  the  second  Punic  war,  styles 
Cannae  a  city;  and  adds,  that  it  had  been  razed  a  year  before  the  defeat  of 
the  Roman  army.  Silius  Italicus  agrees  with  Polybius.  It  was  afterward* 
rebuilt;  for  Pliny  ranks  it  among  the  cities  of  Apulia.  The  ruins  of  Canna 
are  still  to  be  seen  in  the  territory  of  Bari. 


FABIUS  MAXIMUS. 


34<* 


the  signal  for  battle,  which  is  a  red  mantle  set  up  over  the 
general’s  tent.  The  Carthaginians  were. a  little  disheartened 
at  first,  when  they  saw  how  daring  the  consul  was,  and  that 
his  army  was  more  than  twice  their  number.  But  Hannibal 
having  ordered  them  to  arm,  himself,  with  a  few  others,  rode 
up  to  an  eminence,  to  take  a  view  of  the  enemy  now  drawn 
up  for  battle.  One  Gisco,  that  accompanied  him,  a  man  of  his 
own  rank,  happening  to  say, — 66  The  numbers  of  the  enemy 
appeared  to  him  surprising,”  Hannibal  replied,  with  a  serious 
countenance, — “  There  is  another  thing  which  has  escaped 
your  observation,  much  more  surprising  than  that.”  Upon 
his  asking  what  it  was, — “  It  is,”  said  he,  “  that  among  such 
numbers,  not  one  of  them  is  named  Gisco.”  The  whole  com¬ 
pany  were  diverted  with  the  humour  of  his  observation;  and  as 
they  returned  to  the  camp,  they  told  the  jest  to  those  they 
met,  so  that  the  laugh  became  universal.  At  sight  of  this  the 
Carthaginians  took  courage,  thinking  it  must  proceed  from  the 
great  contempt  in  which  their  general  held  the  Romans,  that 
he  could  jest  and  laugh  in  the  face  of  danger. 

In  this  battle  Hannibal  gave  great  proofs  of  generalship. 
In  the  first  place,  he  took  advantage  of  the  ground,  to  post  his 
men  with  their  backs  to  the  wind,  which  was  then  very  violent 
and  scorching,  and  drove  from  the  dry  plains,  over  the  heads 
of  the  Carthaginians,  clouds  of  sand  and  dust  into  the  eyes 
and  nostrils  of  the  Romans,  so  that  they  were  obliged  to  turn 
away  their  faces,  and  break  their  ranks.  In  the  next  place, 
his  troops  were  drawn  up  with  superior  art.  He  placed  the 
flower  of  them  in  the  wings,  and  those  upon  whom  he  had  less 
dependence  in  the  main  corps,  which  was  considerably  more 
advanced  than  the  wings.  Then  he  commanded  those  in  the 
wings,  that  when  the  enemy  had  charged,  and  vigorously 
pushed  that  advanced  body,  which  he  knew  would  give  way, 
and  open  a  passage  for  them  to  the  very  centre,  and  when  the 
Romans  by  this  means  should  be  far  enough  engaged  within 
the  two  wings,  they  should  both  on  the  right  and  left  take  them 
in  flank,  and  endeavour  to  surround  them.*  This  was  the 
principal  cause  of  the  great  carnage  that  followed;  for  the  ene¬ 
my  pressing  upon  Hannibal’s  front,  which  gave  ground,  the 
form  of  his  army  was  changed  into  a  half  moon;  and  the  offi¬ 
cers  of  the  select  troops  caused  the  two  points  of  the  wings  to 
join  behind  the  Romans.  Thus  they  were  exposed  to  the  at¬ 
tacks  of  the  Carthaginians  on  all  sides;  an  incredible  slaughtei 
followed;  nor  did  any  escape  but  the  few  that  retreated  before 
the  main  body  was  enclosed, 


*  Five  hundred  Numidians  pretended  to  desert  to  the  Romans:  butii  lie 
heat  of  the  battle  turned  against  them,  and  attacked  them  in  the  rear, 

31  * 


350 


FABIUS  MAXIMUS. 


It  is  also  said,  that  a  strange  and  fatal  accident  happened  t« 
the  Roman  cavalry;  for  the  horse  which  AEmilius  rode,  hav¬ 
ing  received  some  hurt,  threw  him;  and  those  about  him 
alighting  to  assist  and  defend  the  consul  on  foot,  the  rest  of 
the  cavalry  seeing  this,  and  taking  it  for  a  signal  for  them  to 
do  the  same,  all  quitted  their  horses  and  charged  on  foot.  At 
sight  of  this,  Hannibal  said, — “  This  pleases  me  better  than  if 
they  had  been  delivered  to  me  bound  hand  and  foot.”  But 
the  particulars  may  be  found  at  large  in  the  historians  who 
have  described  this  battle. 

As  to  the  consuls,  Varro  escaped  with  a  few  horse  to  Venu- 
tia;  and  iEmilius,  covered  with  darts  which  stuck  in  his 
wounds,  sat  down  in  anguish  and  despair,  waiting  for  the  ene¬ 
my  to  despatch  him.  His  head  and  his  face  were  so  disfigured 
and  stained  with  blood,  that  it  was  not  easy  to  know  him ; 
even  his  friends  and  servants  passed  by  him  without  stopping 
At  last  Cornelius  Lentulus,  a  young  man  of  a  'patrician  family, 
perceiving  who  he  was,  dismounted,  and  entreated  him  to  take 
nis  horse,  and  save  himself  for  the  commonwealth,  which  had 
then  more  occasion  than  ever  for  so  good  a  consul.  But  no¬ 
thing  could  prevail  upon  him  to  accept  of  the  offer;  and,  not¬ 
withstanding  the  young  man’s  tears,  he  obliged  him  to  mount 
his  horse  again.  Then  rising  up,  and  taking  him  by  the  hand, 
“Tell  Fabius  Maximus,”  said  he  “and,  Lentulus,  do  you 
yourself  be  witness,*  that  Paulus  iEmilius  followed  his  direc¬ 
tions  to  the  last,  and  did  not  deviate  in  the  least  from  the  plan 
agreed  upon  between  them,  but  was  first  overcome  by  Varro, 
and  then  by  Hannibal.”  Having  despatched  Lentulus  with 
this  commission,  he  rushed  among  the  enemy’s  swords,  and 
was  slain.  Fifty  thousand  Romans  are  said  to  have  fallen  in 
this  battle, t  and  four  thousand  to  have  been  taken  prisoners, 
beside  ten  thousand  that  were  taken  after  the  battle  in  both 
camps. 

After  this  great  success,  Hannibal’s  friends  advised  him  to 
pursue  his  fortune,  and  to  enter  Rome  along  with  the  fugi¬ 
tives,  assuring  him  that  in  five  days  he  might  sup  in  the  Capi¬ 
tol.  It  is  not  easy  to  conjecture  what  his  reason  was  for  not 

*  K ett  yua  (A&grvs  etwee. 

f  According'  to  Livy,  there  were  killed  of  the  Romans  only  forty  thousand 
foot,  and  two  thousand  seven  hundred  horse.  Pol)  bius  says  that  seventy 
thousand  were  killed.  The  loss  of  the  Carthaginians  did  not  amount  to  six 
thousand. 

When  the  Carthaginians  were  stripping  the  dead,  among  other  moving 
objects  they  found,  to  their  great  surprise,  a  Numidian,  yet  alive,  lying  un¬ 
der  the  dead  body  of  a  Roman,  who  had  thrown  himself  headlo  ng  on  his 
enemy,  and  heat  .him  down;  but  being  no  longer  able  to  make  use  of  his 
weapons,  because  he  had  lost  his  hands,  had  torn  off  the  nose  and  ears  of  the 
Numidian  with  his  teeth,  and  in  that  fit  of  rage  expired. 


FABITJS  MAXIMUS. 


351 


taking  this  step.  Most  probably  some  deity  opposed  it,  and 
therefore  inspired  him  with  this  hesitation  and  timidity.  On 
this  account  it  was  that  a  Carthaginian,  named  Barca,  said  tc 
him  wTith  some  heat, — “  Hannibal,  you  know  how  to  gain  a 
victory,  but  not  how  to  use  it.”* 

The  battle  of  Cannae,  however,  made  such  an  alteration  in 
his  affairs,  that  though  before  it  he  had  neither  town,  nor 
magazine,  nor  port  in  Italy,  but,  without  any  regular  supplies 
for  the  war,  subsisted  his  army  by  rapine,  and  for  that  pur¬ 
pose  moved  them,  like  a  great  band  of  robbers  from  place  to 
place;  yet  then  he  became  master  of  the  greatest  part  of  Italy; 
its  best  provinces  and  towns  voluntarily  submitted  to  him; 
and  Capua  itself,  the  most  respectable  city  after  Rome,  threw 
its  weight  into  his  scale. 

In  this  case  it  appeared  that  great  misfortunes  are  not  only, 
what  Euripides  calls  them,  a  trial  of  the  fidelity  of  a  friend, 
but  of  the  capacity  and  conduct  of  a  general.  For  the  pro¬ 
ceedings  of  Fabius,  which  before  this  battle  were  deemed  cold 
and  timid,  then  appeared  to  be  directed  by  counsels  more  than 
human;  to  be  indeed  the  dictates  of  a  divine  wisdom,  which 
penetrated  into  futurity  at  such  a  distance,  and  foresaw  what 
seemed  incredible  to  the  very  persons  who  experienced  it.  In 
him,  therefore,  Rome  places  her  last  hope;  his  judgment  is 
the  temple,  the  altar,  to  which  she  flies  for  refuge,  believing 
that  to  his  prudence  it  was  chiefly  owing  that  she  still  held  up 
her  head,  and  that  her  children  were  not  dispersed,  as  when 
she  was  taken  by  the  Gauls.  For  he  who,  in  times  of  appa¬ 
rent  security,  seemed  to  be  deficient  in  confidence  and  resolu¬ 
tion,  now,  when  all  abandoned  themselves  to  inexpressible 
sorrow  and  helpless  despair,  alone  walked  about  the  city  with 
a  calm  and  easy  pace,  with  a  firm  countenance,  a  mild  and 
gracious  address,  checking  their  effeminate  lamentations,  and 
preventing  them  from  assembling  in  public  to  bewail  their 
common  distress.  He  caused  the  senate  to  meet;  he  encou¬ 
raged  the  magistrates,  himself  being  the  soul  of  their  body, 

•  Zonarus  tells  us,  that  Hannibal  himself  afterwards  acknowledged  his 
mistake  in  not  pursuing  that  day’s  success,  and  used  often  to  cry  out,  O 
Cannae,  Cannae! 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  it  may  be  pleaded,  in  defence  of  Hannibal,  that 
the  advantages  he  had  gained  were  chiefly  owing  to  his  cavalry,  who  could 
not  act  in  a  siege:  that  the  inhabitants  of  Rome  were  all  bred  up  to  arms 
fiom  their  infancy;  would  use  their  utmost  efforts  in  defence  of  their  wives, 
their  children,  and  their  domestic  gods;  and,  when  sheltered  by  walls  and 
ramparts,  would  probably  be  invincible:  That  they  had  as  many  generals  as 
senators:  That  no  one  nation  of  Italy  had  yet  declared  for  him,  and  he  might 
judge  it  necessary  to  gain  some  of  them  before  he  attempted  the  capital- 
And  lastly,  that  if  he  had  attempted  the  capital  first,  and  without  success, 
e  would  not  have  been  able  to  gain  any  one  nation  or  city. 


352 


FABIUS  MAXIMUS 


lor  all  waited  his  motion,  and  were  ready  to  obey  his  orders, 
he  placed  a  guard  at  the  gates,  to  hinder  such  of  the  people  as 
were  inclined  to  fly  from  quitting  the  city;  he  fixed  both  the 
place  and  time  for  mourning,  allowed  thirty  days  for  that  pur¬ 
pose  in  a  man’s  own  house,  and  no  more  for  the  city  in  gene 
ral;  and  as  the  feast  of  Ceres  fell  within  that  time,  it  was 
thought  better  entirely  to  omit  the  solemnity,  than  by  the  small 
numbers,  and  the  melancholy  looks  of  those  that  should  attend 
it,  to  discover  the  greatness  Gf  their  loss;*  for  the  worship 
most  acceptable  to  the  gods  is  that  which  comes  from  cheerful 
hearts.  Indeed,  whatever  the  augurs  ordered  for  propitiating 
the  divine  powers,  and  averting  inauspicious  omens,  was  care¬ 
fully  performed;  for  Fabius  Fictor,  the  near  relation  of  Fabius 
Maximus,  was  sent  to  consult  the  oracle  at  Delphi;  and  of  the 
two  vestals  who  were  then  found  guilty  of  a  breach  of  their 
vow  of  chastity,  one  was  buried  alive,  according  to  custom, 
and  the  other  died  by  her  own  hand. 

But  what  most  deserves  to  be  admired,  is  the  magnanimity 
and  temper  of  the  Romans,  when  the  consul  Varro  returned 
after  his  defeat, t  much  humbled  and  very  melancholy,  as  one 
who  had  occasioned  the  greatest  calamity  and  disgrace  ima 
ginable  to  the  republic.  The  whole  senate  and  people  went  to 
welcome  him  at  the  gates;  and,  when  silence  was  commanded, 
the  magistrates  and  principal  senators,  amongst  whom  was 
Fabius,,  commended  him  for  not  g'vmg  up  the  circumstances 
of  the  state  as  desperate  after  so  great  a  misfortune,  but  re¬ 
turning  to  take  upon  him  the  administration',  and  to  make 
what  advantage  he  could  for  his  country  of  the  laws  and  citi¬ 
zens,  as  not  being  utterly  lost  and  ruined. 

When  they  found  that  Hannibal,  after  the  battle,  instead  of 
marching  to  Rome,  turned  to  another  part  of  Italy,  they  took 
courage,  and  sent  their  armies  and  generals  into  the  field. 
The  most  eminent  of  these  were  Fabius  Maximus  and  Claudi 
us  Marcellus,  men  distinguished  by  characters  almost  entirely 
opposite.  Marcellus  (as  we  have  mentioned  in  his  life)  was 
a  man  of  a  buoyant  and  animated  valour,  remarkably  well 

*  This  was  not  the  real  cause  of  deferring*  the  festival,  but  that  which  Plu¬ 
tarch  hints  at  just  after,  viz.  because  it  was  unlawful  for  persons  in  mourn 
ing*  to  celebrate  it;  and  at  that  time  there  was  not  one  matron  in  Rome  who 
was  not  in  mourning*.  In  fact,  the  feast  was  not  entirely  omitted,  but  kept 
as  soon  as  the  mourning  was  expired. 

j-  Valerius  Maximus  tells  us  (lib.  iii.  c.  6,)  that  the  senate  and  people  of¬ 
fered  Varro  the  dictatorship,  which  he  refused,  and  by  his  modest  refusal, 
vviped  off,  in  some  measure,  the  shame  of  his  former  behaviour.  Thus  the 
Romans,  by  treating  their  unfortunate  commanders  with  humanity,  lessened 
the  disgrace  of  their  being  vanquished  or  discharged,  while  the  Carthaginian* 
condemned  their  generals  to  cruel  deaths,  upon  their  being  overcome,  though 
it  was  often  \»  i*’\out  their  own  fault- 


FAB1US  MAXIMUS. 


353 


skilled  in  the  use  of  weapons,  and  naturally  enterprising;  such 
an  one,  in  short  as  Homer  calls  lofty  in  heart ,  in  courage  fierce , 
in  war  delighting.  So  intrepid  a  general  was  very  fit  to  be 
opposed  to  an  enemy  as  daring  as  himself,  to  restore  the  cou¬ 
rage  and  spirits  of  the  Romans,  by  some  vigorous  stroke  in 
the  first  engagements.  As  for  Fabius,  he  kept  to  his  first  sen¬ 
timents,  and  hoped,  that  if  he  only  followed  Hannibal  close, 
without  fighting  him,  he  and  his  army  would  wear  themselves 
ouf:,  and  lose  their  warlike  vigour,  just  as  a  wrestler  does,  who 
keeps  continually  in  the  ring,  and  allows  himself  no  repose  to 
recruit  his  strength  after  excessive  fatigues.  Hence  it  was 
that  the  Romans  (as  Posidonius  tells  us)  called  Fabius  their 
shield ,  and  Marcel! us  their  sword ,  and  used  to  say,  that  the 
steadiness  and  caution  of  the  one,  mixed  with  the  vivacity  and 
Boldness  of  the  other,  made  a  compound  very  salutary  to 
Rome.  Hannibal,  therefore,  often  meeting  Marcellus,  whose 
motions  were  like  those  of  a  torrent,  found  his  forces  broken 
and  diminished;  ard  by  Fabius,  who  moved  with  a  silent  but 
constant  stream,  h^  was  undermined  and  insensibly  weakened. 
Such,  at  length,  was  the  extremity  he  was  reduced  to,  that  he 
was  tired  of  fightmg  Marcellus,  and  afraid  of  Fabius.  And 
these  were  the  persons  he  had  generally  to  do  with  during  the 
remainder  of  the  war,  as  praetors,  consuls,  or  proconsuls;  for 
each  of  them  w°s  five  times  consul.  It  is  true,  Marcellus,  in 
his  fifth  consulate,  was  drawn  into  his  snares,  and  killed,  by 
means  of  an  ambuscade.  Hannibal  often  made  the  like  at¬ 
tempts  upon  Fabius,  exerting  all  his  arts  and  stratagems,  but 
without  effect  Once  only  he  deceived  him,  and  had  nearly 
led  him  into  a  fatal  error.  He  forged  letters  to  him,  as  from 
the  principal  inhabitants  of  Metapontum,  offering  to  delivei 
up  the  city  to  him,  and  assuring  him  that  those  who  had  taken 
this  resolution,-  only  waited  till  he  appeared  before  it.  Fabius, 
giving  credit  to  these  letters,  ordered  a  party  to  be  ready,  in¬ 
tending  to  march  thither  in  the  night;  but  finding  the  auspices 
unpromismg,  he  altered  his  design,  and  soon  after  discovered 
that  the  letters  were  forged  by  an  artifice  of  Hannibal’?,  and 
that  he  was  lying  in  ambush  for  him  near  the  town.  But  this, 
perhaps,  may  be  ascribed  to  the  favour  and  protection  of  the 
gods. 

Fabius  was  persuaded  that  it  was  better  to  keep  the  cities 
from  revolting,  and  to  prevent  any  commotions  among  the 
allies,  oy  affability  and  mildness,  than  to  entertain  every  sus- 

iiicion,  or  to  use  severity  against  those  whom  he  did  suspect, 
[t  is  reported  of  him,  that  being  informed  that  a  certain  Mar¬ 
xian  in  his  army,*  who  was  a  man  not  inferior  in  courage  or 


*  Livy  tells  this  story  of  Marcellus,  which  Plutarch  here  applies  to  F abuts 

Vox  I  -3  A 


354 


FABIUS  MAXIMUS. 


family  to  any  among  the  allies,  solicited  some  of  his  men  U 
desert,  he  did  not  treat  him  harshly,  but  acknowledged  that 
he  had  been  too  much  neglected;  declaring,  at  the  sam°  time, 
that  he  was  now  perfectly  sensible  how  much  his  officers  had 
been  to  blame,  in  distributing  honours  more  out  of  favour 
than  regard  to  merit;  and  that,  for  the  future,  he  should  take 
it  ill  if  he  did  not  apply  to  him  when  he  had  any  request  to 
make.  This  was  followed  with  a  present  of  a  war-horse,  and 
with  other  marks  of  honour;  and  from  that  time  the  man  be¬ 
haved  with  great  fidelity  and  zeal  for  the  service.  Fabius 
thought  it  hard,  that,  while  those  that  bred  dogs  and  horses 
soften  their  stubborn  tempers,  and  bring  down  their  fierce 
spirits,  by  care  and  kindness,  rather  than  with  whips  and 
chains,  he  who  has  the  command  of  men  should  not  endeavour 
to  correct  their  errors  by  gentleness  and  goodness,  but  treat 
them  even  in  a  harsher  and  more  violent  manner  than  garden¬ 
ers  do  the  wild  fig-trees,  wild  pears  and  olives,  whose  nature 
they  subdue  by  cultivation,  and  which,  by  that  means,  they 
bring  to  produce  very  agreeable  fruit. 

Another  time,  some  of  his  officers  informed  him,  that  one 
of  the  soldiers,  a  native  of  Lucania,  often  quitted  his  post, 
and  rambled  out  of  the  camp.  Upon  this  report,  he  asked 
what  kind  of  a  man  he  was  in  other  respects;  and  they  all  de¬ 
clared  it  was  not  easy  to  find  so  good  a  soldier,  doing  him  the 
justice  to  mention  several  extraordinary  instances  of  his  valour. 
On  inquiring  into  the  cause  of  this  irregularity,  he  found  that 
the  man  was  passionately  in  love,  and  that,  for  the  sake  of  see¬ 
ing  a  young  woman,  he  ventured  out  of  the  camp,  and  took  a 
long  and  dangerous  journey,  every  night.  Hereupon  Fabius 
gave  orders  to  some  of  his  men  to  find  out  the  woman,  and 
convey  her  into  his  own  tent,  but  took  care  that  the  Lucanian 
should  not  know  it.  Then  he  sent  for  him,  and  taking  him 
aside,  spoke  to  him  as  follows: — “  I  very  well  know  that  you 
have  lain  many  nights  out  of  the  camp,  in  breach  of  the  Ro¬ 
man  discipline  and  laws;  at  the  same  time,  I  am  not  ignorant 
of  your  past  services.  In  consideration  of  them,  I  forgive 
your  present  crime;  but,  for  the  future,  I  will  give  you  ir* 
charge  to  a  person  who  shall  be  answerable  for  you.”  While 
the  soldier  stood  much  amazed,  Fabius  produced  the  worn  a  a 
and  putting  her  in  his  hands,  thus  expressed  himself: — “  This 
is  the  person  who  engages  for  you,  that  you  will  remain  in 
camp,  and  now  we  shall  see  whether  there  was  not  some  trai¬ 
torous  design  which  drew  you  out,  and  which  you  made  the 
love  of  this  woman  a  cloak  for.  ”  Such  is  the  account  we  have 
of  this  affair. 

By  means  of  another  love-affair,  Fabius  recovered  the  ci tyr 
f  Tarentum,  which  had  been  treache  'ously  delivered  up  tc 


FABIUS  MAXIMUS. 


35i 


Hannibal.  A  young  man,  a  native  of  that  place,  who  served 
under  Fabius,  had  a  sister  there,  who  loved  him  with  grea 
tenderness.  This  youth  being  informed  that  a  certain  Bru¬ 
tian,*  one  of  the  officers  of  the  garrison  which  Hannibal  had 
put  in  Tarentum,  entertained  a  violent  passion  for  his  sister, 
hoped  to  avail  himself  of  this  circumstance  to  the  advantage 
of  the  Romans.  Therefore,  with  the  permission  of  Fabius, 
he  returned  to  his  sister  at  Tarentum,  under  colour  of  having 
deserted.  Some  days  passed,  during  which  the  Brutian  for¬ 
bore  his  visits,  for  she  supposed  that  her  brother  knew  nothing 
of  the  amour.  This  obliged  the  young  man  to  come  to  an  ex¬ 
planation: — “  It  has  been  currently  reported,”  said  he,  “  that 
you  receive  addresses  from  a  man  of  some  distinction.  Pray 
who  is  he?  If  he  is  a  man  of  honour  and  character,  as  they  say 
he  is,  Mars,  who  confounds  all  things,  takes  but  little  thought 
of  what  country  he  may  be.  What  necessity  imposes  is  no 
disgrace;  but  we  may  rather  think  ourselves  fortunate,  at  a 
;ime  when  justice  yields  to  force,  if  that  which  force  might 
compel  us  to,  happens  not  to  be  disagreeable  to  our  own  incli¬ 
nations.”  Thus  encouraged,  the  young  woman  sent  for  the 
Brutian,  and  presented  him  to  her  brother.  And  as  she  be¬ 
haved  to  him  in  a  kinder  and  more  complying  manner,  through 
her  brother’s  means,  who  was  very  indulgent  to  his  passion, 
it  was  not  very  difficult  to  prevail  with  the  Brutian,  who  was 
deeply  in  love,  and  was  withal  &  mercenary, t  to  deliver  up  the 
town,  upon  promises  of  great  rewards  from  Fabius. 

This  is  the  account  which  most  historians  give  us;  yet  some 
say,  that  the  woman  by  whom  the  Brutian  was  gained,  was  not 
a  Tarentine,  but  a  Brutian;  that  she  had  been  concubine  to  Fa¬ 
bius;  and  that  when  she  found  the  governor  of  Tarentum  was 
her  countryman  and  acquaintance,  she  told  Fabius  of  it,  and 
finding  means,  by  approaching  the  walls,  to  make  him  a  pro¬ 
posal,  she  drew  him  over  to  the  Roman  interest. 

During  these  transactions,  Fabius,  in  order  to  make  a  diver¬ 
sion,  gave  directions  to  the  garrison  of  Rhegium,  to  lay  waste 
the  Brutian  territories,  and,  if  possible,  to  make  themselves 
masters  of  Caulonia.  These  were  a  body  of  eight  thousand 
men,  composed  partly  of  deserters  and  partly  of  the  most 
worthless  of  that  infamous  band  brought  by  Marcellus  out  of 
Sicily,  X  and  therefore  the  loss  of  them  would  not  be  great,  nor 

*T»v  <TircLy/uevcv  * vtc 9  A vvi@x  mv  7ro\tv  /»  \<p9  vyt/uovicte. 

f  A t^pet7ra  /ui7$oq>c,p>i - .  This'  has  been  mistranslated  a  man  of  a  mer¬ 

cenary  dispositim.  Tu~  words  only  import  that  he  was  not  of  Hannibal’s 
own  troops,  but  of  the  mercenaries.  Hence  all  governments  should  learn 
to  beware  how  they  entrust  d  towns  with  garrisons  of  hired  troops  and 
strangers. 

i  These  men  were  brouglV  A,om  Si.  ‘  *  •  *  *  Mr  Marcellus,  but  by  his  col 
league  Lxvinti* 


356 


FABIUS  MAXIMUS. 


much  lamented  by  the  Romans.  These  men  he  threw  out  as 
a  Dait  for  Hannibal,  and  by  sacrificing  them,  hoped  to  draw 
him  to  a  distance  from  Tarentum.  The  design  succeeded  ac¬ 
cordingly;  for  Hannibal  marched  with  his  forces  to  Caulonia, 
and  Fabius.in  the  mean  time  laid  siege  to  Tarentum.  The 
sixth  day  of  the  siege,  the  young  man  having  settled  tne  mat¬ 
ter  with  the  Brutian  officer,  by  means  of  his  sister,  and  having 
well  observed  the  place  where  he  kept  guard,  and  promised  to 
let  in  the  Romans,  went  to  Fabius  by  night  and  gave  him  an 
account  of  it.  The  consul  moved  to  the  appointed  quarter, 
though  not  entirely  depending  upon  the  promise  that  the  town 
would  be  betrayed.  There  he  himself  sat  still,  but  at  the  same 
time  ordered  an  assault  on  every  other  part,  both  by  sea  and 
land.  This  was  put  in  execution  with  great  noise  and  tumult, 
which  drew  most  of  the  Tarentines  that  way,  to  assist  the 
garrison,  and  repel  the  besiegers.  Then  the  Brutian  giving 
Fabius  the  signal,  he  scaled  the  walls,  and  got  possession  of 
the  town. 

On  this  occasion  Fabius  seems  to  have  indulged  a  criminal 
ambition.*  For  that  it  might  not  appear  that  the  place  was 
betrayed  to  him,  he  ordered  the  Brutians  to  be  first  put  to  the 
sword.  But  he  failed  in  his  design;  for  the  former  suspicion 
still  remained,  and  he  incurred,  besides,  the  reproach  of  per¬ 
fidy  and  inhumanity.  Many  of  the  Tarentines  also  were  kill¬ 
ed;  thirty  thousand  of  them  were  sold  for  slaves;  the  army 
had  the  plunder  of  the  town,  and  three  thousand  talents  were 
brought  into  the  public  treasury.  Whilst  every  thing  was 
ransacked,  and  the  spoils  were  heaped  before  Fabius,  it  is  re¬ 
ported  that  the  officer  who  took  the  inventory,  asked,  “  What 
he  would  have  them  do  with  the  gods?”  meaning  the  statues 
and  pictures:  Fabius  answered,  “  Let  us  leave  the  Tarentines 
their  angry  gods.t  However,  he  carried  away  a  colossus  of 
Hercules,  which  he  afterwards  set  up  in  the  Capitol,  and  near 
it  an  equestrian  statue  of  himself  in  brass,  %  Thus  he  showed 
himself  inferior  to  Marcellus  in  his  taste  for  the  fine  arts,  and 
still  more  so  in  mercy  and  humanity.  Marcellus  in  this  re¬ 
spect  had  greatly  the  advantage,  as  we  have  already  observed 
in  his  life. 

Hannibal  had  hastened  to  the  relief  of  Tarentum;  and  being 

*  Livy  does  not  say  that  Fabius  gave  such  orders.  He  only  says,  “  There 
were  many  Brutians  slain,  either  through  ignorance,  or  through  the  ancient 
hatred  which  the  Romans  bore  them,  or  because  the  Romans  were  desirous 
that  Tarentum  should  seem  to  be  taken  sw  ord  in  hand,  rather  than  betray¬ 
ed  to  them.,, 

-(■The  gods  were  in  the  attitude  of  combatants:  and  they  appeared  to  have 
fought  against  the  Tarentines, 

t  The  wrork  of  Lysippus. 


FABIUS  MAXIMUS, 


within  five  miles  of  it,  when  it  was  taken,  he  scrupled  not  tc 
say  publicly,  “  The  Romans,  too,  have  their  Hannibal;  for  we 
have  lost  Tarentum  in  the  same  manner  that  we  gained  it.” 
And,  in  private,  he  then  first  acknowledged  to  his  friends, 
“That  he  had  always  thought  it  difficult,  but  now  saw  it  was 
impossible,  with  the  forces  he  had,  to  conquer  Italy. ” 

Fabius  for  this  was  honoured  with  a  triumph  more  splendid 
than  the  former,  having  gloriously  maintained  the  field  against 
Hannibal  and  baffled  all  his  schemes  with  ease,  just  as  an  able 
wrestler  disengages  himself  from  the  arms  of  his  antagonist, 
whose  grasp  no  longer  retains  the  same  vigour.  For  Hanni¬ 
bal’s  army  was  now  partly  enervated  with  opulence  and  luxu¬ 
ry,  and  partly  impaired  and  worn  out  with  continual  action. 

Marcus  Livius,  who  commanded  in  Tarentum  when  it  was 
betrayed  to  Hannibal,  retired  into  the  citadel,  and  held  it 
till  the  town  was  retaken  by  the  Romans.  This  officer  beheld 
with  pain  the  honours  conferred  upon  Fabius;  and  one  day 
his  envy  and  vanity  drew  from  him  this  expression  in  the 
senate:  “I,  not  Fabius,  was  the  cause  of  recovering  Taren¬ 
tum.  ”  True, ”  said  Fabius  laughing,  “for  if  you  had  not 
lost  the  town,  I  had  never  recovered  it.” 

Among  other  honours  which  the  Romans  paid  to  Fabius, 
they  elected  his  son  consul.  *  When  he  had  entered  upon  his 
office,  and  was  settling  some  point  relating  to  the  war,  the 
father,  either  on  account  of  his  age  and  infirmities,  or  else  to 
try  his  son,  mounted  his  horse  to  ride  up  to  him.  The  young 
consul  seeing  him  at  a  distance,  would  not  suffer  it,  but  sent 
one  of  the  liciors  to  his  father,  with  orders  for  him  to  dis¬ 
mount,  and  to  come  on  foot  to  the  consul,  if  he  had  any  occa¬ 
sion  to  apply  to  him.  The  whole  assembly  were  moved  at 
this,  and  cast  their  eyes  upon  Fabius,  by  their  silence  and 
their  looks  expressing  their  resentment  of  the  indignity  of¬ 
fered  to  a  person  of  his  character.  But  he  instantly  alighted, 
and  ran  to  his  son,  and  embraced  him  with  great  tenderness: — ■ 
“My  son,”  said  he,  “I  applaud  your  sentiments  and  your 
behaviour.  You  know  what  a  people  you  command,  and 
have  a  just  sense  of  the  dignity  of  your  office.  This  was  the 
way  that  we  and  our  forefathers  took  to  advance  Rome  to  her 
present  height  of  glory,  always  considering  the  honour  and 
interest  of  our  country  before  that  of  our  own  fathers  and 
children.” 

And  indeed  it  is  reported  that  the  great-grandfather  of  oui 
Fabius, t  though  he  was  one  of  the  greatest  men  in  Rome, 

*  The  son  was  elected  consul  four  years  before  the  father  took  Ta 
rentun. 

-f  Fabius  Rullus. 


32 


358 


FABIUS  MAXIMUS 


whether  we  consider  his  reputation  or  authority,  though  h 
had  been  five  times  consul,  and  had  been  honoured  with  se¬ 
veral  glorious  triumphs  on  account  of  his  success  in  wars  of  the 
last  importance,  yet  condescended  to  serve  as  lieutenant  to  his 
son,  then  consul,*  in  an  expedition  against  the  Samnites:  and 
while  his  son,  in  the  triumph  which  was  decreed  him,  drove 
into  Rome  in  a  chariot  and  four,  he,  with  others,  followed  him 
on  horseback.  Thus,  while  he  had  authority  over  his  son. 
considered  as  a  private  man,  and  while  he_was,t  both  especi¬ 
ally  and  reputedly,  the  most  considerable  member  of  the  com¬ 
monwealth,  vet  he  gloried  in  showing  his  subjection  to  the 
laws  and  to  the  magistrate.  Nor  was  this  the  only  part  of  hi? 
character  that  deserves  to  be  admired. 

When  Fabius  Maximus  had  the  misfortune  to  lose  his  son 
he  bore  that  loss  with  great  moderation,  as  became  a  wise  man 
and  a  good  father;  and  the  funeral  oration, f  which,  on  occa¬ 
sion  of  the  deaths  of  illustrious  men,  is  usually  pronounced  by 
some  near  kinsman,  he  delivered  himself;  and  having  commit¬ 
ted  it  to  writing,  made  it  public. 

When  Publius  Cornelius  Scipio,  who  was  sent  proconsul 
into  Spain,  had  defeated  the  Carthaginians  in  many  battles, 
and  driven  them  out  of  that  province;  and  when  he  had,  more¬ 
over,  reduced  several  towns  and  nations  under  the  obedience 
of  Rome,  on  returning  loaded  with  spoil,  he  was  received 
with  great  acclamations  and  general  joy.  Being  appointed  con¬ 
sul,  and  finding  that  the  people  expected  something  great 
and  striking  at  his  hands,  he  considered  it  as  an  antiquated 
method,  and  worthy  only  of  the  inactivity  of  an  old  man,  to 
watch  the  motions  of  Hannibal  in  Italy;  and  therefore  deter¬ 
mined  to  remove  the  seat  of  war  from  thence  into  Africa,  to 
fill  the  enemy’s  country  with  his  legions,  to  extend  his  ravages 
far  and  wide,  and  to  attempt  Carthage  itself.  With  this  view, 
he  exerted  all  his  talents  to  bring  the  people  into  his  design. 
But  Fabius,  on  this  occasion,  filled  the  city  with  alarms,  as  if 
the  commonwealth  was  going  to  be  brought  into  the  most  ex¬ 
treme  danger,  by  a  rash  and  indiscreet  young  man;  in  short, 
he  scrupled  not  to  do  or  to  say  any  thing  he  thought  likely  to 


*  Fabius  Guages,  who  had  been  defeated  by  the  Samnites,  and  would  have 
been  degraded,  had  not  his  father  promised  to  attend  him  in  his  second  ex¬ 
pedition  as  his  lieutenant. 

f - Kelt  \v,  ‘7rpoffa.yopiuc/t/.ivos - 

i  Cicero,  in  his  treatise  on  old  age,  speaks  in  high  terms,  both  of  Fabi'us 
and  this  oration  of  his: — “  Many  extraordinary  things  have  I  known  in  that 
man,  but  nothing  more  admirable  than  the  manner  in  which  he  bore  the 
death  of  his  son,  a  person  of  great  merit  and  of  consular  dignity.  His  eulo- 
gium  is  in  our  hands;  and  whde  we  *ead  it,  do  we  not  look  down  on  the 
best  of  the  philosophers 


FABIUS  MAXIMUS 


35S 


dissuade  his  counti/men  from  embracing  the  proposal.  With 
the  senate  he  carried  his  point.  *  But  the  people  believed  that 
his  opposition  to  Scipio  proceeded  either  from  envy  of  his 
success,  or  from  a  secret  fear,  that  if  this  young  hero  should 
perform  some  signal  exploit,  put  an  end  to  the  war,  or  even 
remove  it  out  of  Italy,  his  own  slow  proceedings  through  the 
course  of  so  many  years  might  be  imputed  to  indolence  or 
timidity. 

To  me  Fabius  seems  at  first  to  have  opposed  the  measures 
cf  Scipio,  from  an  excess  of  caution  and  prudence,  and  to  have 
really  thought  the  danger  attending  his  project  great;  but  in 
the  progress  of  the  opposition  I  think  he  went  too  great  lengths, 
misled  by  ambition  and  a  jealousy  of  Scipio’s  rising  glory;  for 
he  applied  to  Crassus,  the  colleague  of  Scipio,  and  endeavour¬ 
ed  to  persuade  him  not  to  yield  that  province  to  Scipio,  but,  if 
he  thought  it  proper  to  conduct  the  war  in  that  manner,  to  go 
himself  against  Carthage. t  Nay,  even  hindered  the  raising 
of  money  for  that  expedition;  so  that  Scipio  was  obliged  to 
find  the  supplies  as  he  could:  and  he  effected  it  through  his  in¬ 
terest  with  the  cities  of  Hetruria,  which  were  wholly  devoted 
to  him.  %  As  for  Crassus,  he  staid  at  home,  partly  induced  to 
it  by  his  disposition,  which  was  mild  and  peaceful,  and  partly 
by  the  care  of  religion,  which  was  entrusted  to  him  as  high 
priest. 

Fabius,  therefore,  took  another  method  to  traverse  the  de¬ 
sign.  He  endeavoured  to  prevent  the  young  men,  who  offer¬ 
ed  to  go  volunteers,  from  giving  in  their  names,  and  loudly 
declared,  both  in  the  senate  and  forum,  “  That  Scipio  did  not 
only  himself  avoid  Hannibal,  but  intended  to  carry  away  with 
him  the  remaining  strength  of  Italy,  persuading  the  young 
men  to  abandon  their  parents,  their  wives,  and  native  city, 
whilst  an  unstibdued  and  potent  enemy  was  still  at  their 
doors.  99  With  these  assertions  he  so  terrified  the  people,  that 
they  allowed  Scipio  to  take  with  him  only  the  legions  that 
were  in  Sicily,  and  three  hundred  of  those  men  who  had  serv¬ 
ed  him  with  so  much  fidelity  in  Spain.  In  this  particular  Fa¬ 
bius  seems  to  have  followed  the  dictates  of  his  own  cautious 
temper. 


*  See  the  debates  in  the  senate  on  that  occasion,  in  Livy,  lib.  xxviii. 
f  This  Crassus  could  not  do;  for  being  Pontifex  Maximusy  it  was  necessa¬ 
ry  that  he  should  remain  in  Italy. 

i  Scipio  was  empowered  to  ask  of  the  allies  all  things  necessary  for  build¬ 
ing  and  equipping  a  new  fleet.  And  many  of  the  provinces  and  cities  vo¬ 
luntarily  taxed  themselves  to  furnish  him  with  corn,  iron,  timber,  cloth  for 
sails,  &c.  so  that  in  forty  dsys  after  the  cutting  of  the  timber,  he  was  in  a  con¬ 
dition  to  set  sail  with  a  fleet  of  thirty  new  galleys,  besides  the  thirty  he  hao 
before.  There  went  w;th  him  about  seven  thousand  volunte* 


360 


FABIUS  MAXIMUS 


After  Scipio  was  gone  over  into  Africa,  an  account  was 
soon  brought  to  Rome  of  his  glorious  and  wonderful  achieve¬ 
ments.  This  account  was  followed  by  rich  spoils,  which  con¬ 
firmed  it.  A  Numidian  king  was  taken  prisoner;  two  camps 
were  burnt  and  destroyed,  and  in  them  a  vast  number  of  men, 
arms,  and  horses;  and  the  Carthaginians  sent  orders  to  Han¬ 
nibal  to  quit  his  fruitless  hopes  in  Italy,  and  return  home  to 
defend  his  own  country.  Whilst  every  tongue  was  applaud¬ 
ing  these  exploits  of  Scipio,  Fabius  proposed  that  his  successor 
should  be  appointed,  without  any  shadow  of  reason  for  it,  ex¬ 
cept  what  this  well-known  maxim  implies,  viz.  66  That  it  is 
dangerous  to  trust  affairs  of  such  importance  to  the  fortune  of 
one  man,  because  it  is  not  likely  that  he  will  always  be  suc¬ 
cessful.” 

By  this  he  offended  the  people,  who  now  considered  him  as 
a  captious  and  envious  man;  or  as  one  whose  courage  and 
hopes  were  lost  in  the  dregs  of  years,  and  who  therefore  look¬ 
ed  upon  Hannibal  as  much  more  formidable  than  he  really 
was.  Nay,  even  when  Hannibal  embarked  his  army,  and 
quitted  Italy,  Fabius  ceased  not  to  disturb  the  general  joy, 
and  to  damp  the  spirits  of  Rome.  For  he  took  the  liberty  to 
affirm, — “That  the  commonwealth  was  now  come  to  her  last 
and  worst  trial:  that  she  had  the  most  reason  to  dread  the  ef¬ 
forts  of  Hannibal  when  he  should  arrive  in  Africa,  and  attack 
her  sons  under  the  walls  of  Carthage;  that  Scipio  would  have 
to  do  with  an  army  yet  warm  with  the  blood  of  so  many  Ro¬ 
man  generals,  dictators,  and  consuls,”  The  city  was  alarmed 
with  these  declamations;  and  though  the  war  was  removed  in¬ 
to  Africa,  the  danger  seemed  to  approach  nearer  Rome  than 
ever. 

However,  soon  after  Scipio  defeated  Hannibal  in  a  pitched 
battle,  pulled  down  the  pride  of  Carthage,  and  trod  it  under 
foot.  This  afforded  the  Romans  a  pleasure  beyond  all  their 
hopes,  and  restored  a  firmness  to  their  empire,  which  had  been 
shaken  with  so  many  tempests.  But  Fabius  Maximus  did 
not  live  to  the  end  o?  the  war,  to  hear  of  the  overthrow  of 
Hannibal,  or  to  see  the  prosperity  of  his  country  re-establish¬ 
ed;  for  about  the  time  that  Hannibal  left  Italy,  he  fell  sick, 
and  died.  We  are  assured,  that  Epaminondas  died  so  poor, 
that  the  Thebans  buried  him  at  the  public  charge;  for  at  his 
death  nothing  was  found  in  his  house  but  an  iron  spit.*  The 

*  Xylander  is  of  opinion,  that  the  word  c  in  this  place  does  not  sig¬ 

nify  a  spit,  but  a  piece  of  money,-  and  he  shows,  from  a  passage  in  the  life  of 
X^y sander,  that  money  anciently  was  made  in  a  pyramidical  form.  But  he 
did  not  consider  that  iron  money  was  not  in  use  at  Thebes,  and  Plutarch  says 
that  th;s  obeliscus  was  of  iron. 


PERICLES  AND  FABIUS  MAXIMUS  COMPARED.  361 


expense  of  Fabius’s  funeral  was  not  indeed  defrayed  out  of  the 
Roman  treasury,  but  every  citizen  contributed  a  small  piece 
of  money  towards  it:  not  that  he  died  without  effects,  but  that 
they  might  bury  him  as  the  father  of  the  people,  and  that  the 
honours  paid  him  at  his  death  might  be  suitable  to  the  dignity 
ol  his  life. 


PERICLES  AND  FABIUS  MAXIMUS 

COMPARED. 


Such  were  the  lives  of  those  two  persons,  so  illustrious  and 
worthy  of  imitation,  both  in  their  civil  and  military  capacity.* 
We  shall  first  compare  their  talents  for  war.  And  here  it 
strikes  us  at  once,  that  Pericles  came  into  power  at  a  time  when 
the  Athenians  were  at  the  height  of  prosperity,  great  in  them¬ 
selves,  and  respectable  to  their  neighbours;  so  that  in  the  very 
strength  of  the  republic,  with  only  common  success,  he  was 
secure  from  taking  any  disgraceful  step.  But  as  Fabius  came 
to  the  helm,  when  Rome  experienced  the  worst  and  most  mor¬ 
tifying  turn  of  fortune,  he  had  not  to  preserve  the  well-estab¬ 
lished  prosperity  of  a  nourishing  state,  but  to  draw  his  country 
from  an  abyss  of  misery,  and  raise  it  to  happiness.  Besides, 
the  successes  of  Cimon,  the  victories  of  Myronides  and  Leo- 
crates,  and  the  many  great  achievements  of  Tolmides,  rather 
furnished  occasion  to  Pericles,  during  his  administration,  to 
entertain  the  city  with  feasts  and  games, t  than  to  make  new 
acquisitions,  or  to  defend  the  old  ones  by  arms.  On  the  othei 
hand,  Fabius  had  the  frightful  objects  before  his  eves,  of  de¬ 
feats  and  disgraces,  of  Roman  consuls  and  generals  slain,  of 
lakes,  fields,  and  forests,  full  of  the  dead  carcasses  of  whole 
armies,  and  of  rivers  flowing  with  blood  down  to  the  very  sea. 
In  this  tottering  and  decayed  condition  of  the  commonwealth, 
he  was  to  support  it  by  his  counsels  and  his  vigour,  and  to  keep 
it  from  falling  into  absolute  ruin,  to  which  it  was  brought  so 
near  by  the  errors  of  former  commanders. 

It  may  seem,  indeed,  a  less  arduous  performance  to  manage 
the  tempers  of  a  people  humbled  by  calamities,  and  compelled 

*  TloXXct  K'JU  K'JLXH  TTtt^tS'iiyfJt.K'TCl  K'JL<tO.XiXOt 
■j*  ’H  tinryiasLoScLi  ttox^u  kki  <puXoi£cio-&at, 

Vol.  i. - 3  B  32* 


362  PEDICLES  AND  FABIUS  MAXIMUS  COMPARED. 

by  necessity  to  listen  to  reason,  than  to  restrain  the  wildness 
and  insolence  of  a  city  elated  with  success,  and  wanton  with 
power,  such  as  Athens  was  when  Pericles  held  the  reins  of  go¬ 
vernment.  But  then,  undauntedly  to  keep  to  his  first  resolu¬ 
tions,  and  not  to  be  discomposed  by  the  vast  weight  of  misfor¬ 
tunes  with  which  Rome  was  then  oppressed,  discovers  in  Fa- 
bius  an  admirable  firmness  and  dignity  of  mind. 

Against  the  taking  of  Samos  by  Pericles,  we  may  set  the 
retaking  of  Tarentum  by  Fabius;  and  with  Euboea  we  may  put 
in  balance  the  towns  of  Campania.  As  for  Capua,  it  was  re¬ 
covered  afterwards  by  the  consuls  Furius  and  Appius.  Fa- 
bius  indeed  gained  but  one  set  battle,  for  which  he  had  his 
first  triumph;  whereas  Pericles  erected  nine  trophies,  for  as 
many  victories  won  by  land  and  sea.  But  none  of  the  victo¬ 
ries  of  Pericles  can  be  compared  with  that  memorable  rescue 
of  Minutius,  by  which  Fabius  redeemed  him  and  his  whole 
army  from  utter  destruction;  an  action  truly  groat,  and  in 
which  you  find  at  once  the  bright  assemblage  of  valour,  of 
prudence,  and  humanity.  Nor  can  Pericles,  on  the  other 
hand,  be  said  ever  to  have  committed  such  an  error  as  that  of 
Fabius,  when  he  suffered  himself  to  be  imposed  on  by  Hanni¬ 
bal’s  stratagem  of  the  oxen;  let  his  enemy  slip  in  the  night 
through  those  straights  in  which  he  had  been  entangled  by  ac¬ 
cident,  and  where  he  could  not  possibly  have  forced  his  way 
out:  and  as  soon  as  it  was  day,  saw  himself  repulsed  by  the 
man  who  was  so  lately  at  his  mercy. 

If  it  is  the  part  of  a  good  general,  not  only  to  make  a  pro¬ 
per  use  of  the  present,  but  also  to  form  the  best  judgment  of 
things  to  come,  it  must  be  allowed  that  Pericles  both  foresaw 
and  foretold  what  success  the  Athenians  would  have  in  the 
war,  namely,  that  they  would  ruin  themselves  by  grasping  at 
too  much.  But  it  was  entirely  against  the  opinion  of  Fabius, 
that  the  Romans  sent  Scipio  into  Africa,  and  yet  they  were 
victorious  there,  not  by  the  favour  of  fortune,  but  by  the  cou 
rage  and  conduct  of  their  general.  So  that  the  misfortunes  of 
his  country  bore  witness  to  the  sagacity  of  Pericles,  and  from 
the  glorious  success  of  the  Romans,  it  appeared  that  Fabius 
was  utterly  mistaken;  and,  indeed,  it  is  an  equal  fault  in  a 
commander-in-chief  to  lose  an  advantage  through  diffidence, 
and  to  fall  into  danger  for  want  of  foresight;  for  it  is  the  same 
want  of  judgment  and  skill,*  that  sometimes  produces  too 
much  confidence,  and  sometimes  leaves  too  little.  Thus  far 
concerning  their  abilities  in  war. 


*  This  ciTTitpidt  signifies  as  well,  inexperience.  Fabius  had  as  much  experi 
ence  as  Pericles,  and  yet  was  not  equ/’lv  happy  in  his  conjectures  with  re 
gard  to  future  events. 


PERICLES  AND  FABIUS  MAXIMUS  COMPARED.  363 


And  if  we  consider  them  in  their  political  capacity,  we  shall 
find  that  the  greatest  fault  laid  to  the  charge  of  Pericles  was, 
that  he  caused  the  Peloponnesian  war,  through  opposition  to 
the  Lacedaemonians,  which  made  him  unwilling  to  give  up  the 
least  point  to  them.  I  do  not  suppose  that  Fabius  Maximus 
would  have  given  up  any  point  to  the  Carthaginians,  but  that 
he  would  generously  have  run  the  last  risk  to  maintain  the 
dignity  of  Rome 

The  mild  and  moderate  behaviour  of  Fabius  to  Minutius, 
sets  in  a  very  disadvantageous  light  the  conduct  of  Pericles, 
in  his  implacable  persecution  of  Cimon  and  Thucydides, 
valuable  men  and  friends  to  the  aristocracy,  and  yet  banished 
by  his  practices  and  intrigues. 

Besides,  the  power  of  Pericles  was  much  greater  than  tha+ 
of  Fabius;  and  therefore  he  did  not  suffer  any  misfortune  to 
be  brought  upon  Athens  by  the  wrong  measures  of  other  g.ene- 
rals.  Tolmides  only  carried  it  against  him  for  attacking  the 
Boeotians,  and  in  doing  it  he  was  defeated  and  slain.  All  the 
rest  adhered  to  his  party,  and  submitted  to  his  opinion,  on  ac¬ 
count  of  his  superior  authority;  whereas,  Fabius,  whose  mea¬ 
sures  were  salutary  and  safe,  as  far  as  they  depended  upon 
himself,  appears  only  to  have  fallen  short  by  his  inability  to 
prevent  the  miscarriage  of  others.  For  the  Romans  would 
not  have  had  so  many  misfortunes  to  deplore,  if  the  power  of 
Fabius  had  been  great  in  Rome,  as  that  of  Pericles  in 
Athens. 

As  to  their  liberality  and  public  spirit,  Pericles  showed  it 
in  refusing  the  sums  that  were  offered  him,  and  Fabius  in  ran¬ 
soming  his  soldiers  with  his  own  money.  This,  indeed,  was 
no  great  expense,  being  only  about  six  talents.*  But  it  is  not 
easy  to  say  what  a  treasure  Pericles  might  have  amassed  from 
the  allies,  and  from  kings  who  made  their  court  to  him,  on  ac¬ 
count  of  his  great  authority;  yet  no  man  ever  kept  himself 
more  free  from  corruption. 

As  for  the  temples,  the  public  edifices,  ana  ctner  works, 
with  which  Pericles  adorned  Athens,  all  the  structures  of  that 
kind  in  Rome  put  together,  until  the  times  of  the  Caesars,  de¬ 
served  not  to  be  compared  with  them,  either  in  the  greatness 
of  the  design,  or  the  excellence  of  the  execution. 


*  Probably  this  is  an  error  of  the  transcribers.  For  Fabius  was  to  pay  two 
hundred  and  fifty  drachmas  for  each  prisoner,  and  he  ransomed  two  hundred 
and  forty-seven,  which  would  stand  him  sixty-one  thousand  seven  hundred 
and  fifty  drachmas,  that  is,  more  than  ten  talents;  a  very  considerable  ex* 
pense  to  Fabius,  which  he  could  not  answer  without  selling  his  es+Vce. 


LIFE  OF  ALCIBIADES. 


Those  that  have  searched  into  the  pedigree  of  Alcibiades 
&ay,  that  Eurysaces,  the  son  of  Ajax,  was  founder  of  the  fa¬ 
mily;  and  that,  by  his  mother’s  side,  he  was  descended  from 
Alcmseon;  for  Dinomache  his  mother,  was  the  daughter  of 
Megacles,  who  was  of  that  line.  His  father  Clinias  gained 
great  honour  in  the  sea-fight  of  Artemisium,  where  he  fought 
in  a  galley  fitted  out  at  his  own  expense,  and  afterwards  was 
slain  in  the  battle  of  Coronae,  where  the  Boeotians  won  the 
day.  Pericles  and  Ariphron,  the  sons  of  Xanthippus,  and 
near  relations  to  Alcibiades,  were  his  guardians.  It  is  said, 
and  not  without  reason,  that  the  affection  and  attachment  of 
Socrates  contributed  much  to  his  fame.  For  Nicias,  Demos¬ 
thenes,  Lamachus,  Phormio,  Thrasybulus,  Theramenes,  were 
illustrious  persons,  and  his  contemporaries,  yet  we  do  not  so 
much  as  know  the  name  of  the  mother  of  either  of  them; 
whereas  we  know  even  the  nurse  of  Alcibiades,  that  she  was 
of  Lacedaemon,  and  that  her  name  was  Amycla;  as  well  as 
that  Zopyrus  was  his  schoolmaster;  the  one  being  recorded  by 
Antisthenes,  and  the  other  by  Plato. 

As  to  the  beauty  of  Alcibiades,  it  may  be  sufficient  to  say, 
that  it  retained  its  charms  through  the  several  stages  of  child¬ 
hood,  youth,  and  manhood.  For  it  is  not  universally  true 
what  Euripides  says, — 

The  very  autumn  of  a  form  once  fine 

Retains  its  beauties. 

Yet  this  was  the  case  of  Alcibiades,  amongst  a  few  others,  by 
reason  of  his  natural  vigour  and  happy  constitution. 

He  had  a  lisping  in  his  speech,  which  became  him,  and  gave 
a  grace  and  persuasive  turn  to  his  discourse.  Aristophanes, 
m  those  verses  wherein  he  ridicules  Theorus,  takes  notice, 
that  Alcibiades  lisped,  for  instead  of  calling  him  Corax,  Ra¬ 
ven ,  he  called  him  Colax,  Flatterer ;  from  whence  the  poet  takes 
occasion  to  observe,  that  the  term  in  that  lisping  pronuneia 
t\on,  too,  was  very  applicable  to  him.  With  this  agrees  ths 


ALCIBIADES. 


3bo 

satirical  description  which  Archippus  gives  of  the  son  of  AI 
cibiades: — 

With  sauntVmg’  step,  to  imitate  his  father. 

The  vain  youth  moves;  his  loose  robe  wildly  floats, 

He  bends  the  neck;  he  lisps. 

His  manners  were  far  from  being  uniform;  nor  is  it  strange, 
that  they  varied  according  to  the  many  vicissitudes  and  won 
derful  turns  of  his  fortune.  He  was  naturally  a  man  of  strong 
passions;  but  his  ruling  passion  was  an  ambition  to  contend 
and  overcome.  This  appears  from  what  is  related  of  his  say¬ 
ings  when  a  boy.  When  hard  pressed  in  wrestling,  to  prevent 
his  being  thrown,  he  bit  the  hands  of  his  antagonist,  who  let 
go  his  hold,  and  said,  “  You  bite,  Alcibiades,  like  a  woman.” 
“No,”  says  he,  “like  a  lion.” 

One  day  he  was  playing  at  dice  with  other  boys  in  the  street; 
and  when  it  came  to  his  turn  to  throw,  a  loaded  wagon  came 
up.  At  first  he  called  to  the  driver  to  stop,  because  he  was  to 
throw  in  the  way  over  which  the  wagon  was  to  pass.  The 
rustic  disregarding  him  and  driving  on,  the  other  boys  broke 
away;  but  Alcibiades  threw  himself  upon  his  face  directly  be¬ 
fore  the  wagon,  and  stretching  himself  out,  bade  the  fellow 
drive  on  if  he  pleased.  Upon  this  he  was  so  startled,  that  he 
stopped  his  horses,  while  those  that  saw  it  ran  up  to  him  with 
terror. 

In  the  course  of  his  education,  he  willingly  took  the  lessons 
of  his  other  masters,  but  refused  learning  to  play  upon  the 
flute,  which  he  looked  upon  as  a  mean  art,  and  unbecoming  a 
gentleman.  “  The  use  of  the  plectrum  and  the  lyre,”  he  would 
say,  “has  nothing  in  it  that  disorders  the  features  or  form,  but 
a  man  is  hardly  to  be  known  by  his  most  intimate  friends  when 
he  plays  upon  the  flute.  Besides,  the  lyre  does  not  hinder  the 
performer  from  speaking  or  accompanying  it  with  a  song, 
whereas  the  flute  so  engages  the  mouth  and  the  breath,  that  "it 
leaves  no  possibility  of  speaking.  Therefore,  let  the  Theban 
youth  pipe,  who  know  not  how  to  discourse;  but  we  Atheni¬ 
ans,  according  to  the  account  of  our  ancestors,  have  Minerva 
for  our  patroness,  and  Apollo  for  our  protector,  one  of  whom 
threw  away  the  flute,  and  the  other  stripped  off  the  man’s  skin 
who  played  upon  it.”*  Thus,  partly  by  raillery,  and  partly 
by  argument,  Alcibiades  kept  both  himself  and  others  from 
learning  to  play  upon  the  flute;  for  it  soon  became  the  talk 
among  the  young  men  of  condition,  that  Alcibiades  was  right 
in  holding  that  art  in  abomination,  and  ridiculing  those  that 


*  Malay  as. 


366 


ALCI13IADES. 


practised  it.  Thus  it  1  jst  its  place  in  the  number  of  liberal  ac¬ 
complishments,  and  was  universally  exploded. 

In  the  invective  which  Antipho  wrote  against  Alcibiades, 
one  story  is,  that  when  a  boy,  he  ran  away  from  his  guardians 
to  one  of  his  friends  named  Democrates;  and  that  Ariphron 
would  have  had  proclamation  made  for  him,  had  not  Pericles 
diverted  him  from  it,  by  saying,  “  If  he  is  dead,  we  shall  only 
find  him  one  day  the  sooner  for  it;  if  he  is  safe,  it  will  be  a 
reproach  to  him  as  long  as  he  lives. ”  Another  story  is,  that 
he  killed  one  of  his  servants  with  a  stroke  of  his  stick,  in  Si- 
byrtius’s  place  of  exercise.  But,  perhaps,  we  should  not  give 
entire  credit  to  these  things,  which  were  professedly  written 
by  an  enemy  to  defame  him. 

Many  persons  of  rank  made  their  court  to  Alcibiades;  but 
it  is  evident  that  they  were  charmed  and  attracted  by  the 
beauty  of  his  person.  Socrates  was  the  only  one  whose  re¬ 
gards  were  fixed  upon  the  mind,  and  bore  witness  to  the  young 
man’s  virtue  and  ingenuity;  the  rays  of  which  he  could  dis¬ 
tinguish  through  his  fine  form;  and  fearing  lest  the  pride  of 
riches  and  high  rank,  and  the  crowd  of  flatterers,  both  Athe¬ 
nians  and  strangers,  should  corrupt  him,  he  used  his  best  en¬ 
deavours  to  prevent  it,  and  took  care  that  so  hopeful  a  plant 
should  not  lose  its  fruit,  and  perish  in  the  very  flower.  If  ever 
fortune  so  enclosed  and  fortified  a  man  with  what  are  called 
her  goods,  as  to  render  him*  inaccessible  to  the  incision-knife 
of  philosophy,  and  the  searching-probe  of  free  advice,  surely 
it  was  Alcibiades.  From  the  first,  he  was  sin.ounded  with 
pleasure,  and  a  multitude  of  admirers,  determined  to  say  no 
thing  but  what  they  thought  would  please,  and  to  keep  him 
from  all  admonition  and  reproof;  yet,  by  his  native  penetra 
tion,  he  distinguished  the  value  of  Socrates,  and  attached  him¬ 
self  to  him,  rejecting  the  rich  and  great,  who  sued  for  his  re¬ 
gard. 

With  Socrates  he  soon  entered  into  the  closest  intimacy, 
and  finding  that  he  did  not,  like  the  rest  of  the  unmanly  crew, 
want  improper  favours,  but  that  he  studied  to  correct  the  er¬ 
rors  of  his  heart,  and  to  cure  him  of  his  empty  and  foolish  ar¬ 
rogance, 


Then  his  crest  fell,  and  all  his  pride  was  gone. 

He  droop’d  the  conquer’d  wing. 

In  fact,  he  considered  the  discipline  of  Socrates  as  a  provision 
from  heaven  for  the  preservation  and  benefit  of  youth.  Thus 

•  Plutarch’s  expression  here  is  not  exactly  the  same  with  that  of  the  trans¬ 
lation,  but  it  is  couched  in  figures  which  tend  the  same  way,  a/rr9  ctrpoo tov  vrt 
Q!Xq<tg<pi&c  yiviv^eti,  xoyoig  ctTrpcanov  7rci^>i<nuv  ksu  J'ny/uov  t^aaiv. 


ALCIBIADES. 


367 


despising  himself,  admiring  his  friend,  adoring  his  wisdom, 
and  revering  his  virtue,  he  insensibly  formed  in  his  heart  the 
image  of  love,  or  rather  came  under  the  influence  of  that  pow¬ 
er,  who,  as  Plato  says,  secures  his  votaries  from  vicious  love 
It  surprised  all  the  world  to  see  him  constantly  sup  with  So¬ 
crates,  take  with  him  the  exercise  of  wrestling,  lodge  in  the 
same  tent  with  him;  while  to  his  other  admirers  he  was  re¬ 
served  and  rough.  Nay,  to  some  he  behaved  with  great  inso¬ 
lence,  to  Anytus  (for  instance)  the  son  of  Anthemion.  Any 
tus  vvas  very  fond  of  him,  and  happening  to  make  an  entertain¬ 
ment  for  some  strangers,  he  desired  Alcibiadesto  give  him  his 
company.  Alcibiades  would  not  accept  of  the  invitation;  but 
having  drunk  deep  with  some  of  his  acquaintance  at  his  own 
house,  he  went  thither  to  play  some  frolic.  The  frolic  was  this* 
He  stood  at  the  door  of  the  room  where  the  guests  were  enter¬ 
tained,  and  seeing  a  great  number  of  gold  and  silver  cups  upon 
the  table,  he  ordered  his  servants  to  take  half  of  them,  and 
carry  them  to  his  own  house ;*  and  then,  not  vouchsafing  so 
much  as  to  enter  into  the  room  himself,  as  soon  as  he  had  done 
this,  he  went  away.  The  company  resented  the  affront,  and 
said  he  had  behaved  very  rudely  and  insolently  to  Anytus. 
“Not  at  all,”  said  Anytus,  “but  rather  kindly,  since  he  has 
left  us  half,  when  he  knew  it  was  in  his  power  to  take  the 
whole.” 

He  behaved  in  the  same  manner  to  his  other  admirers,  ex 
cept  only  one  stranger.  This  man  (they  tell  us)  was  but  in 
indifferent  circumstances;  for  when  he  had  sold  all,  he  could 
make  up  no  more  than  the  sum  of  one  hundred  staters; t  which 
he  carried  to  Alcibiades,  and  begged  of  him  to  accept  it.  Alci¬ 
biades  was  pleased  at  the  thing,  and,  smiling,  invited  him  to 
supper.  After  a  kind  reception  and  entertainment,  he  gave 
him  the  gold  again,  but  required  him  to  be  present  next  day 
when  the  public  revenues  were  to  be  offered  to  farm,  and  to 
be  sure  to  be  the  highest  bidder.  The  man  endeavouring  to 
excuse  himself,  because  the  rent  would  be  many  talents,  Alci 
biades,  who  had  a  private  pique  against  the  old  farmers,  threat¬ 
ened  to  have  him  beaten  if  he  refused.  Next  morning,  there- 

*  Athenseus  says,  he  did  not  keep  them  himself,  but  having*  taken  them 
from  this  man,  who  was  rich,  gave  them  to  Thrasyllu§,  who  was  poor. 

f  The  stater  was  a  coin  which  weighed  four  Attic  drachmas,  and  was  either 
of  gold  or  silver.  The  silver  was  worth  about  two  shillings  and  six  pence 
sterling;  the  stater  daricus ,  a  gold  coin,  was  worth  twelve  shillings  and  three 
pence  halfpenny;  but  the  Attic  stater  of  gold  must  be  worth  much  more,  if 
we  reckon  the  proportion  of  gold  to  silver  only  at  ten  to  one,  as  it  was 
then;  whereas  now  it  is  about  sixteen  to  one.  Dacier,  then,  is  greatly  mis* 
taken,  when  he  says  the  stater  here  mentioned  by  Plutarch  was  worth  only- 
forty  French  sols,  for  Plutarch  says  expressly,  that  these  staters  were  of  goto 


368 


ALCIBIADES 


fore,  the  stranger  appeared  in  the  market-place,  and  offered  a 
talent  more  than  the  former  rent.  The  farmers,  uneasy  and 
angry  at  this,  called  upon  him  to  name  his  security,  supposing 
that  he  could  not  find  any.  The  poor  man  was  indeed  much 
startled,  and  going  to.retire  with  shame,  when  Alcibiades,  who 
stood  at  some  distance,  cried  out  to  the  magistrates,  “  Set 
down  my  name,  he  is  my  friend,  and  1  will  be  his  security.” 
When  the  old  farmers  of  the  revenue  heard  this,  they  were 
much  perplexed;  for  their  way  was,  with  the  profits  of  the 
present  year  to  pay  the  rent  of  the  preceding;  so  that,  seeing 
no  other  way  to  extricate  themselves  out  of  the  difficulty,  they 
applied  to  the  stranger  in  an  humble  strain,  and  offered  him  mo¬ 
ney.  But  .Alcibiades  would  not  suffer  him  to  take  less  than  a 
talent,  which  accordingly  was  paid.  Having  done  him  this 
service,  he  told  him  he  might  relinquish  his  bargain. 

Though  Socrates  had  many  rivals,  yet  he  kept  possession  of 
Alcibiades’s  heart  by  the  excellence  of  his  genius,  and  the  pa¬ 
thetic  turn  of  his  conversation,  which  often  drew  tears  from 
his  young  companion;  and  though  sometimes  he  gave  Socrates 
the  slip,  and  was  drawn  away  by  his  flatterers,  who  exhausted 
all  the  art  of  pleasure  for  that  purpose,  yet  the  philosophei 
took  care  to  hunt  out  his  fugitive,  who  feared  and  respected 
none  but  him;  the  rest  he  held  in  great  contempt.  Hence 
that  saying  of  Clean thes,  “  Socrates  gains  Alcibiades  by  the 
ear,  and  leaves  to  his  rivals  other  parts  of  his  body,  with  which 
he  scorns  to  meddle.”  In  fact,  Alcibiades  was  very  capable 
of  being  led  by  the  allurements  of  pleasure;  and  what  Thucy¬ 
dides  says  concerning  his  excesses  in  his  way  of  living,  gives 
occasion  to  believe  so.  Those  who  endeavoured  to  corrupt 
him,  attacked  him.  on  a  still  weaker  side,  his  vanity  and  love 
of  ditsinction,  and  led  him  into  vast  designs  and  unseasona- 
able  projects;  persuading  him,  that  as  soon  as  he  should  appl)’ 
himself  to  the  management  of  public  affairs,  he  should  not  only 
eclipse  the  other  generals  and  orators,  but  surpass  even  Peri¬ 
cles  himself,  in  point  of  reputation,  as  well  as  interest  with 
the  powers  of  Greece.  But  as  iron,  when  softened  by  the  fire, 
is  soon  hardened  again,  and  brought  to  a  proper  temper  by  cold 
water;  so,  when  Alcibiades  was  enervated  by  luxury,  or  swoln 
with  pride,  Socrates  corrected  and  brought  him  to  himself  by 
his  discourses;  for  from  them  he  learned  the  number  of  his  de¬ 
fects,  and  the  imperfection  of  his  virtue. 

When  he  was  past  his  childhood,  happening  to  go  into  a 
grammar-school,  he  asked  the  master  for  a  volume  of  Homer; 
and  upon  his  making  answer  that  he  had  nothing  of  Homer’?, 
he  gave  him  a  box  on  the  ear,  and  so  left  him.  Another 
schoolmaster  telling  him  he  had  Homer  corrected  by  himself: 
“How!”  said  Alcibiades,  “and  do  you  employ  your  time 


ALCIBIADES. 


369 


teaching  children  to  read;  you,  who  are  able  to  correct  Ho 
mer,  might  seem  to  be  fit.  to  instruct  men.” 

One  day,  wanting  to  speak  to  Pericles,  he  went  to  his  house, 
and  being  told  there  that  he  was  busied  in  considering  how  to 
give  in  his  accounts  to  the  people,  and  therefore  not  at  leisure, 
he  said,  as  he  went  away,  “  He  had  better  consider  how  to 
avoid  giving  in  any  account  at  all.” 

While  he  was  yet  a  youth,  he  made  the  campaign  at  Poti 
daea,  where  Socrates  lodged  in  the  same  tent  with  him,  and 
was  his  companion  in  every  engagement.  In  the  principal 
battle,  they  both  behaved  with  great  gallantry;  but  Alcibiades 
at  last  falling  down  wounded,  Socrates  advanced  to  defend 
him,  which  he  did  effectually,  in  the  sight  of  the  whole  army, 
saving  both  him  and  his  arms.  For  this  the  prize  of  valoui 
was  certainly  due  to  Socrates,  yet  the  generals  inclined  to  give 
it  to  Alcibiades,  on  account  of  his  quality;  and  Socrates,  will¬ 
ing  to  encourage  this  thirst  after  true  glory,  was  the  first  who 
gave  his  suffrage  for  him,  and  pressed  them  to  adjudge  him  the 
crown,  and  the  complete  suit  of  armour.  On  the  other  hand, 
at  the  battle  of  Delium,  where  the  Athenians  .were  routed,* 
and  Socrates,  with  a  few  others,  was  retreating  on  foot,  Alci¬ 
biades  observing  it,  did  not  pass  him,  but  covered  his  retreat, 
and  brought  him  safe  off,  though  the  enemy  pressed  furiously 
forward,  and  killed  great  numbers  of  the  Athenians.  But  this 
happened  a  considerable  time  after. 

To  Hipponicus,  the  father  of  Callias,  a  man  respectable  both 
for  his  birth  and  fortune,  Alcibiades  one  day  gave  a  box  on 
the  ear;  not  that  he  had  any  quarrel  with  him,  or  was  heated 
by  passion,  but  purely  because  in  a  wanton  frolic,  he  had 
agreed  with  his  companions  to  do  so.  The  whole  city  being 
full  of  the  story  of  his  insolence,  and  every  body  (as  it  was 
natural  to  expect)  expressing  some  resentment,  early  next 
morning  Alcibiades  went  to  wait  on  Hipponicus,  knocked  at 
the  door  and  was  admitted.  As  soon  as  he  came  into  his  pre¬ 
sence,  he  stripped  off  his  garment,  and  presenting  his  naked 
body,  desired  him  to  beat  and  chastise  him  as  he  pleased.  But 
instead  of  that,  Hipponicus  pardoned  him,  and  forgot  all  his 
resentment:  nay,  some  time  after,  he  even  gave  him  his 
daughter  Hipparete  in  marriage.  Some  say  it  was  not  Hip¬ 
ponicus,  but  his  son  Callias,  who  gave  Hipparete  to  Alcibiades, 
with  ten  talents  to  her  portion;  and  that,  when  she  brought 
him  a  child,  he  demanded  ten  talents  more,  as  if  he  had  taken 


*  Laches,  as  introduced  by  Plato,  tells  us,  that  if  others  had  done  their 
duty,  as  Socrates  did  his,  the  Athenians  would  not  have  been  defeated  in  the 
battle  of  Delium.  That  battle  was  fought  the  first  year  of  the  eighty-ninth 
Olympiad;  eight  years  after  the  battle  of  Potidrea. 

Vol.  I. - 3  C  33 


370 


ALCIBIADES. 


her  on  that  condition.  Though  this  was  but  a  groundless  pm 
/ext,  yet  Callias,  apprehensive  of  some  bad  consequence  from 
nis  artful  contrivances,  in  a  full  assembly  of  the  people,  declar¬ 
ed,  that  if  he  should  happen  to  die  without  children,  Alcibia- 
des  should  be  his  heir. 

Hipparete  made  a  prudent  and  affectionate  wife;  but  at  last, 
growing  very  uneasy  at  her  husband’s  associating  with  such  a 
number  of  courtezans,  both  strangers  and  Athenians,  she 
quitted  his  house,  and  went  to  her  brother’s.  Alcibiades  went 
on  with  his  debaucheries,  and  gave  himself  no  pain  about  his 
wife;  but  it  was  necessary  for  her,  in  order  to  a  legal  separa¬ 
tion,  to  give  in  a  bill  of  divorce  to  the  archon,  and  to  appear 
personally  with  it;  for  the  sending  of  it  by  another  hand  would 
not  do.  When  she  came  to  do  this  according  to  law,  Alcibi¬ 
ades  rushed  in,  caught  her  in  his  arms,  and  carried  her  through 
the  market-place  to  his  own  house,  no  one  presuming  to  op¬ 
pose  him,  or  take  her  from  him.  From  that  time  she  remain 
ed  with  him  until  her  death,  which  happened  not  long  after, 
when  Alcibiades  was  upon  his  voyage  to  Ephesus.  •  Nor  does 
the  violence  used,  in  this  case,  seem  to  be  contrary  to  the  laws, 
either  of  society  in  general,  or  of  that  republic  in  particular. 
For  the  law  of  Athens,  in  requiring  her  who  wants  to  be  di¬ 
vorced  to  appear  publicly  in  person,  probably  intended  to  give 
the  husband  an  opportunity  to  meet  with  her  and  to  recover 
her. 

Alcibiades  had  a  dog  of  an  uncommon  size  and  beauty, 
which  cost  him  seventy  minx,  and  yet  his  tail,  which  was  his 
principal  ornament,  he  caused  to  be  cut  off.  Some  of  his  ac¬ 
quaintance  found  great  fault  with  his  acting  so  strangely,  and 
told  him  that  all  Athens  rung  with  the  story  of  his  foolish  treat 
ment  of  the  dog:  At  which  he  laughed,  and  said,  “  This  is  the 
very  thing  I  wanted;  for  I  would  have  the  Athenians  talk  of 
this,  lest  they  should  find  something  worse  to  say  of  me.” 

The  first  thing  that  made  him  popular,*  and  introduced  him 
into  the  administration,  was  his  distributing  of  money,  not  by 
design,  but  accident.  Seeing  one  day  a  great  crowd  of  people, 
as  he  was  walking  along,  he  asked  what  it  meant;  and  being 
informed  there  was  a  donative  made  to  the  people,  he  distri¬ 
buted  money  too  as  he  went  in  amongst  them.  This  meeting 
with  great  applause,  he  was  so  much  delighted  that  he  forgot 
a  quail  which  he  had  under  his  robe,t  and  the  bird,  frightened 

*  n§aT&y«P  '7r*£oS'ov it;  to  S'y./uca-tcv. — Demosthenes  and  iEschines  both 
make  use  of  the  word  Sn/uccrtov  to  express  the  administration. 

•fit  was  the  fashion  in  those  days  to  breed  quails.  Plato  reports,  that  So¬ 
crates  having  brought  Alcibiades  to  acknowledge,  that  the  way  to  rise  to  dis¬ 
tinction  among  the  Athenians  was  to  study  to  excel  the  generals  of  their  ene- 


ALCIBIADES. 


371 


with  the  noise,  flew  away.  Upon  this,  the  people  set  up  still 
louder  acclamations,  and  many  of  them  assisted  him  to  recover 
the  quail.  The  man  who  did  catch  it  and  bring  it  to  him,  was 
one  Antiochus,*  a  pilot,  for  whom  he  had  ever  after  a  particu¬ 
lar  regard. 

He  had  great  advantages  for  introducing  himself  into  the 
management  of  public  affairs,  from  his  birth,  his  estate,  his 
personal  valour,  and  the  number  of  his  friends  and  relations: 
but  what  he  chose  above  all  the  rest  to  recommend  himself  by 
to  the  people  was  the  charms  of  his  eloquence.  That  he  was 
a  fine  speaker  the  comic  writers  bear  witness;  and  so  does  the 
prince  of  orators,  in  his  oration  against  Midias,t  where  he 
says  that  Alcibiades  was  the  most  eloquent  man  of  his  time. 
And,  if  we  believe  Theophrastus,  a  curious  searcher  into  an¬ 
tiquity,  and  more  versed  in  history  than  the  other  philoso 
phers,  Alcibiades  had  a  peculiar  happiness  of  invention,  and 
readiness  of  ideas,  which  eminently  distinguished  him.  But 
as  his  care  was  employed  not  only  upon  the  matter  but  the  ex¬ 
pression,  and  he  had  not  the  greatest  facility  in  the  latter,  he 
often  hesitated  in  the  midst  of  a  speech,  not  hitting  upon  the 
word  he  wanted,  and  stopping  until  it  occurred  to  him. 

He  was  famed  for  his  breed  of  horses  and  the  number  of 
chariots.  For  no  one  besides  himself,  whether  private  person 
or  king,  ever  sent  seven  chariots  at  one  time  to  the  Olympic 
games.  The  first,  the  second,  and  the  fourth  prizes,  accord¬ 
ing  to  Thucydides,  or  the  third,  as  Euripides  relates  it,  he 
bore  away  at  once,  which  exceeds  every  thing  performed  by 
the  most  ambitious  in  that  way.  Euripides  thus  celebrates 
his  success: — 

Great  son  of  Clinias,  I  record  thy  glory, 

First  on  the  dusty  plain 
The  threefold  prize  to  gain; 

What  hero  boasts  thy  praise  in  Grecian  story? 

Twice*  does  the  trumpet’s  voice  proclaim 

Around  the  plausive  cirque  thy  honour’d  name: 

mies,  replied  with  this  severe  irony,  “No,  no,  Alcibiades,  your  only  study  is 
how  to  surpass  Midias  in  the  art  of  breeding  quails.” — Plat .  in  1  Alcib . 

*  The  name  of  the  man  who  caught  the  quail  would  hardly  have  been 
mentioned,  had  not  Alcibiades  afterwards  entrusted  him  with  the  command 
of  the  fleet  in  his  absence;  when  he  took  the  opportunity  to  fight,  and  was 
beaten. 

j  It  appears,  from  the  passage  of  Demosthenes,  that  he  spoke  only  from 
common  fame,  and  consequently  that  there  was  little  of  Alcibiades’s  then 
extant.  We  find  some  remains  of  his  oratory  in  Thucydides. 

t  Alcibiades  won  the  first,  second,  and  third  prizes  in  person;  beside  which, 
his  chariots  won  twice  in  his  absence.  The  later  is  what  Euripides  refers  to 
the  words  a^rovyirt  and  Sis  sn^eyrn. 


372 


ALCIBIADES. 


Twice  on  thy  brow  was  seen 
The  peaceful  olive’s  green, 

The  glorious  palm  of  easy-purchas’d  fame.* 

The  emulation  which  several  Grecian  cities  expressed  in  tha 
presents  they  made  him  gave  a  still  greater  lustre  to  his  suc¬ 
cess.  Ephesus  provided  a  magnificent  pavilion  for  him ;  Chios 
was  at  the  expense  of  keeping  his  horses  and  beasts  for  sacrifice; 
and  Lesbos  found  him  in  wine  and  every  thing  necessary  for 
the  most  elegant  public  table.  Yet,  amidst  this  success,  he 
escaped  not  without  censure,  occasioned  either  by  the  malice 
of  his  enemies,  or  by  his  own  misconduct.  It  seems  there  was 
at  Athens  one  Diomedes,  a  man  of  good  character  and  a  friend 
of  Alcibiades,  who  v/as  very  desirous  of  winning  a  prize  at 
the  Olympic  games:  and  being  informed  that  there  was  a 
chariot  to  be  sold,  which  belonged  to  the  city  of  Argos,  where 
Alcibiades  had  a  strong  interest,  he  persuaded  him  to  buy  it 
for  him.  Accordingly  he  did  buy  it,  but  kept  it  for  himself, 
leaving  Diomedes  to  vent  his  rage,  and  to  call  gods  and  men 
to  bear  witness  of  the  injustice.  For  this  there  seems  to  have 
been  an  action  brought  against  him;  and  there  is  extant  an 
oration  concerning  a  chariot,  written  by  Isocrates,  in  defence 
of  Alcibiades,  then  a  youth;  but  there  the  plaintiff  is  named 
Tisias,  not  Diomedes. 

Alcibiades  was  very  young  when  he  first  applied  himself  to 
the  business  of  the  republic,  and  yet  he  soon  showed  himself 
superior  to  the  other  orators.  The  persons  capable  of  stand¬ 
ing  in  some  degree  of  competition  with  him,  were  Phaeax  the 
son  of  Erasistratus,  and  Nicias  the  son  of  Niceratus.  The  lat¬ 
ter  was  advanced  in  years,  and  one  of  the  best  generals  of  his 
time.  The  former  was  but  a  youth,  like  himself,  just  begin¬ 
ning  to  make  his  way;  for  which  lie  had  the  advantage  of  high 
birth;  but  in  other  respects,  as  well  as  in  the  art  of  speaking, 
was  inferior  to  Alcibiades.  He  seemed  fitter  for  soliciting  and 
persuading  in  private,  than  for  stemming  the  torrent  of  a  pub- 

*  Antisthenes,  a  disciple  of  Socrates,  writes,  that  Chios  fed  his  horses,  and 
Cyzicus  provided  his  victims.  The  passage  is  remarkable,  for  we  learn  from 
it,  that  this  was  done,  not  only  when  Alcibiades  went  to  the  Olympic  games, 
but  in  his  warlike  expeditions,  and  even  in  his  travels.  “  Whenever,”  says 
he,  “  Alcibiades  travelled,  four  cities  of  the.  allies  ministered  to  him  as  his 
hand-maids.  Ephesus  furnished  him  with  tents  as  sumptuous  as  those  of  the 
Persians;  Chios  found  provender  for  his  horses;  Cyzicus  supplied  him  with 
victims  and  provisions  for  his  table;  and  Lesbos  with  wine  and  all  other 
necessaries  for  his  household.”  None  but  opulent  cities  were  able  to  an 
swer  such  an  expense;  for  at  the  time  when  Alcibiades  won  the  three  prizes 
in  person  at  the  Olympic  games,  after  he  had  offered  a  very  costly  sacrifice 
to  Jupiter,  he  entertained  at  a  magnificent  repast  that  innumerable  company 
vhich  had  assisted  at  the  games. 


ALCIBIADES. 


373 


lie  debate;  in  short,  he  was  one  of  those,  of  whom  Eupolis 
says,  “True,  he  can  talk,  and  yet  he  is  no  speaker.”  There 
is  extant  an  oration  against  Alcibiades  and  Phaeax,  in  which, 
amongst  other  things,  it  is  alleged  against  Alcibiades,  that  he 
used  at  his  table  many  of  the  gold  and  silver  vessels  provided 
for  the  sacred  processions,  as  if  they  had  been  his  own. 

There  was  at  Athens  one  Hyperbolus,  of  the  ward  of  Peri- 
thois,  whom  Thucydides  makes  mention  of  as  a  very  bad  man, 
and  who  was  a  constant  subject  of  ridicule  for  the  comic  wri¬ 
ters.  But  he  was  unconcerned  at  the  worst  things  they  could 
say  of  him;  and  being  regardless  of  honour,  he  was  also  insen 
sible  of  shame.  This,  though  really  impudence  and  folly,  is 
by  some  people  called  fortitude  and  a  noble  daring.  But 
though  no  one  liked  him,  the  people  nevertheless  made  use  of 
him,  when  they  wanted  to  strike  at  persons  in  authority.  At 
his  instigation,  the  Athenians  were  ready  to  proceed  to  the 
oan  of  ostracism ,  by  which  they  pull  down  and  expel  such  of 
the  citizens  as  are  distinguished  by  their  dignity  and  power, 
therein  consulting  their  envy  rather  than  their  fear. 

As  it  was  evident  that  this  sentence  was  levelled  against  one 
of  the  three,  Phaeax,  Nicias,  or  Alcibiades,  the  latter  took  care 
to  unite  the  contending  parties,  and  leaguing  with  Nicias, 
caused  the  ostracism  to  fall  upon  Hyperbolus  himself.  Some 
say,  it  was  not  Nicias,  but  Phaeax,  with  whom  Alcibiades 
joined  interest,  and  by  whose  assistance  he  expelled  their 
common  enemy,  when  he  expected  nothing  less;  for  no  vile 
or  infamous  person  had  ever  undergone  that  punishment.  So 
Plato,  the  <;omic  poet,  assures  us,  thus  speaking  of  Hyperbolus* 

Well  had  the  caitiff  earned  his  banishment, 

But  not  by  ostracism:  that  sentence  sacred 

To  dangerous  eminence. 

But  we  have  elsewhere  given  a  more  full  account  of  what  his 
tory  has  delivered  down  to  us  concerning  this  matter.* 

Alcibiades  was  not  less  disturbed  at  the  great  esteem  in 
which  Nicias  was  held  by  the  enemies  of  Athens,  than  at  the 
respect  which  the  Athenians  themselves  paid  him.  The 
rights  of  hospitality  had  long  subsisted  between  the  family  of 
Alcibiades  and  the  Lacedaemonians,  and  he  had  taken  particu¬ 
lar  care  of  such  of  them  as  were  made  prisoners  at  Pylos;  yet 
when  they  found  that  it  was  chiefly  by  the  means  of  Nicias 
that  they  obtained  a  peace  and  recovered  the  captives,  their 
regards  centred  in  him.  It  was  a  common  observation  among 
the  Greeks,  that  Pericles  had  engaged  them  in  a  war,  and 
Nicias  had  set  them  free  from  it;  nay,  the  peace  was  even  call 


*  In  the  lives  of  Aristides  and  Nicias. 
33* 


S?4 


ALUIUADES, 


ed  the  Nician  peace.  Alcibiades  was  very  uneasy  at  this,  and 
out  of  envy  to  Nicias  determined  to  break  the  league. 

As  soon,  then,  as  he  perceived  that  the  people  of  Argos  both 
feared  and  hated  the  Spartans,  and  consequently  wanted  to  get 
clear  of  all  connection  with  them,  he  privately  gave  them 
hopes  of  assistance  from  Athens;  and,  both  by  his  agents  and 
in  person,  he  encouraged  the  principal  citizens  not  to  entertain 
any  fear,  or  to  give  up  any  point,  but  to  apply  to  the  Athe¬ 
nians,  who  were  almost  ready  to  repent  of  the  peace  they  had 
made,  and  would  soon  seek  occasion  to  break  it. 

But  after  the  Lacedaemonians  had  entered  into  alliance  with 
the  Boeotians,  and  had  delivered  Panactus  to  the  Athenians, 
not  with  its  fortifications,  as  they  ought  to  have  done,  but  quite 
dismantled,  he  took  the  opportunity,  while  the  Athenians 
were  incensed  at  this  proceeding,  to  inflame  them  still  more 
At  the  same  time  he  raised  a  clamour  against  Nicias,  alleging 
things  which  had  a  face  of  probability;  for  he  reproached  him 
with  having  neglected,  when  commander-in-chief,  to  make 
that*  party  prisoners  who  were  left  by  the  enemy  in  Sphacte- 
ria,  and  with  releasing  them,  when  taken  by  others,  to  ingra 
liate  himself  with  the  Lacedsemonians.  He  farther  asserted, 
that  though  Nicias  had  an  interest  with  the  Lacedaemonians, 
he  wTould  not  make  use  of  it  to  prevent  their  entering  into  the 
confederacy  with  the  Boeotians  and  Corinthians ;J)ut  that  when 
an  alliance  was  offered  to  the  Athenians  by  any  of  the  Grecian 
states,  he  took  care  to  prevent  their  accepting  it,  if  it  were 
likely  to  give  umbrage  to  the  Lacedaemonians. 

Nicias  was  greatly  disconcerted;  but  at  that  very  juncture 
it  happened  that  ambassadors  from  Lacedaemon  arrived  with 
moderate  proposals,  and  declared  that  they  had  full  powers  to 
treat  and  decide  all  differences  in  an  equitable  way.  The  se 
nate  was  satisfied,  and  next  day  the  people  were  to  be  con 
vened:  but  Alcibiades,  dreading  the  success  of  that  audience, 

*  After  the  Lacedaemonians  had  lost  the  fort  of  Pylos  in  Messenia,  they 
left  in  the  isle  of  Sphacteria,  which  was  opposite  that  fort,  a  garrison  of  three 
hundred  and  twenty  men,  besides  Helots,  under  the  command  of  Epitades 
the  son  of  Molobrus.  The  Athenians  would  have  sent  Nicias,  while  com- 
mander-in-chiefi  with  a  fleet  against  that  island,  but  he  excused  himself.  Af¬ 
terwards  Cleon,  in  conjunction  with  Demosthenes,  got  possession  of  it,  after 
a  long  dispute,  wherein  several  of  the  garrison  were  slain,  and  the  rest  made 
prisoners,  and  sent  to  Athens.  Among  those  prisoners  were  a  hundred  and 
twenty  Spartans,  who  by  the  assistance  of  Nicias  got  released.  The  Lace¬ 
daemonians  afterwards  recovered  the  port  of  Pylos;  for  Anytus,  who  was 
sent  with  a  squadron  to  support  it,  finding  the  wind  directly  against  him, 
returned  to  Athens;  upon  which  the  people,  according  to  their  usual  custom, 
condemned  him  to  die;  which  sentence,  however,  he  commuted,  by  paying 
a  vast  sum  of  money,  being  the  first  who  reversed  a  judgment  in  i^at  man 


ALCIBIADES. 


375 


tound  means  to  speak  with  the  ambassadors  in  the  mean  time, 
and  thus  he  addressed  them: — 66  Men  of  Lacedaemon,  what  is 
it  you  are  going  to  do?  Are  you  not  apprised  that  the  be¬ 
haviour  of  the  senate  is  always  candid  and  humane  to  those 
who  apply  to  it,  whereas  the  people  are  haughty,  and  expect 
great  concessions?  If  you  say  that  you  are  come  with  full 
powers,  you  will  find  them  untractable  and  extravagant  in  their 
demands.  Come,  then,  retract  that  impudent  declaration;  and 
if  you  desire  to  keep  the  Athenians  within  the  bounds  of  rea¬ 
son,  and  not  to  have  terms  extorted  from  you,  which  you  can 
not  approve,  treat  with  them  as  if  you  had  not  a  discretionary 
commission,  I  will  use  my  best  endeavours  in  favour  of  the 
Lacedaemonians.”  He  confirmed  his  promise  with  an  oath, 
and  thus  drew  them  over  from  Nicias  to  himself.  In  Alci- 
biades  th$y  now  placed  an  entire  confidence,  admiring  both 
his  understanding  and  address  in  business,  and  regarding  him 
as  a  very  extraordinary  man. 

Next  day  the  people  assembled,  and  the  ambassadors  were 
introduced.  Alcibiades  asked  them  in  an  obliging  manner, 
what  their  commission  was,  and  they  answered,  that  they  did 
not  come  as  plenipotentiaries.  Then  he  began  to  rave  and 
storm,  as  if  he  had  received  an  injury,  not  done  one;  calling 
them  faithless,  prevaricating  men,  who  were  come  neither  to 
do  nor  to  say  any  thing  honourable.  The  senate  was  incensed, 
the  people  were  enraged,  and  Nicias,  who  was  ignorant  of  the 
deceitful  contrivance  of  Alcibiades,  was  filled  with  astonish¬ 
ment  and  confusion  at  this  change. 

The  proposals  of  the  ambassadors  thus  rejected,  Alcibiades 
was  deelare'd  general,  and  soon  engaged  the  Argives,*  the 
Mantineans,  and  Eleans,  as  allies  to  the  Athenians.  Nobody 
commended  the  manner  of  this  transaction,  but  the  effect  was 
very  great,  since  it  divided  and  embroiled  almost  all  Pelopon¬ 
nesus,  in  one  day  lifted  so  many  arms  against  the  Lacedaemo¬ 
nians  at  Mantinea,  and  removed  to  so  great  a  distance  from 
Athens  the  scene  of  war;  by  which  the  Lacedaemonians,  if 
victorious,  could  gain  no  great  advantage,  whereas  a  miscar 
riage  would  have  risked  the  very  being  of  their  state. 

Soon  after  this  battle  at  Mantinea, t  the  principal  officers  ): 


*  He  concluded  a  league  with  these  states  for  a  hundred  years,  which 
Thucydides  has  inserted  at  full  length  in  his  fifth  book;  and  by  which  we 
learn  that  the  treaties  of  the  ancient  Greeks  w'ere  no  less  perfect  and  ex¬ 
plicit  than  ours.  Their  treaties  were  of  as  little  consequence  too;  for  how 
6oon  was  that  broken  which  the  Athenians  had  made  with  the  Lacedaemo¬ 
nians! 

f  That  battle  was  fought  near  three  year.s  after  the  conclusion  of  the  treaty 
with  Argos. 

i  Those  officers  availed  themselves  of  the  consternation  the  peopk  at 


376 


ALCIBIADES 


of  the  Argive  army  attempted  to  abolish  the  popular  govern 
ment  of  Argos,  and  to  take  the  administration  into  their  own 
hands.  The  Lacedaemonians  espoused  the  design,  and  assist¬ 
ed  them  to  carry  it  into  execution.  But  the  people  took  up 
arms  again,  and  defeated  their  new  masters;  and  Alcibiades 
coming  to  their  aid,  made  the  victory  more  complete.  At  the 
same  time  he  persuaded  them  to  extend  their  walls  down  to 
the  sea,  that  they  might  always  be  in  a  condition  to  receive 
succours  from  the  Athenians.  From  Athens  he  sent  them 
carpenters  and  masons,  exerting  himself  greatly  on  this  occa¬ 
sion;  which  tended  to  increase  his  personal  interest  and  power, 
as  well  as  that  of  his  country.  He  advised  the  people  of  Patrae, 
too,  to  join  their  city  to  the  sea  by  long  walls.  And  somebody 
observing  to  the  Patrensians,  “That  the  Athenians  would  one 
day  swallow  them  up:”  “  Possibly  it  may  be  so,  said  AIcd 
biades,  “but  they  will  begin  with  the  feet,  and  do  it  by  little 
and  little,  whereas  the  Lacedaemonians  will  begin  with  the 
head  and  do  it  all  at  once.”  He  exhorted  the  Athenians  to 
assert  the  empire  of  the  land,  as  well  as  of  the  sea;  and  was 
ever  putting  the  young  warriors  in  mind  to  show  by  theii 
deeds  that  they  remembered  the  oath  they  had  taken  in  the 
temple  of  Agraulos.*  The  oath  is,  that  they  will  consider 
wheat,  barley,  vine,  and  olives,  as  the  bounds  of  Attica;  by 
which  it  is  insinuated,  that  they  should  endeavour  to  possess 
themselves  of  all  lands  that  are  cultivated  and  fruitful. 

But  these  his  great  abilities  in  politics,  his  eloquence,  his 
reach  of  genius,  and  keenness  of  apprehension,  were  tarnished 
by  his  luxurious  living,  his  drinking  and  debauches,  his  effemi¬ 
nacy  of  dress,  and  his  insolent  profusion.  He  wore  a  purple 
robe  with  a  long  train  when  he  appeared  in  public.  He  caused 
the  planks  of  his  galley  to  be  cut  away,  that  he  might  lie  the 
softer,  his  bed  not  being  placed  upon  the  boards,  but  hanging 
upon  girths.  And  in  the  wars  he  bore  a  shield  of  gold,  which 
nad  none  of  the  usualt  ensigns  of  his  country,  but,  in  their 

Argos  were  in  after  the  loss  of  the  battle;  and  the  Lacedaemonians  gladly 
supported  them,  from  a  persuasion  that  if  the  popular  government  were 
abolished,  and  an  aristocracy  (like  that  of  Sparta)  set  up  in  Argos,  they 
should  soon  be  masters  there. 

*  Agraulos,  one  of  the  daughters  of  Cecrops,  had  devoted  herself  to  death 
for  the  benefit  of  her  country;  it  has  been  supposed,  therefore,  that  the  oath 
which  the  young  Athenians  took,  bound  them  to  do  something  of  that  na* 
ture,  if  need  should  require;  though  as  given  by  Plutarch,  it  implies  only  an 
unjust  resolution  to  extend  the  Athenian  dominions  to  all  lands  that  were 
worth  seizing.  Demosthenes  mentions  the  oath  in  his  oration  de  fals.  Legat. 
but  does  not  explain  it. 

j*  Both  cities  and  private  persons  had  of  old  their  ensigns,  devices,  or  arms. 
Those  of  the  Athenians  were  commonly  Minerva,  the  owl,  or  the  olive. 
None  but  people  of  figure  were  allowed  to  bear  any  devices;  lor  even 


ALCIBIADES. 


377 


steaa,  a  Cupid  bearing  a  thunderbolt  The  greal:  men  oi 
Athens  saw  his  behaviour  with  uneasiness  and  indignation* 
and  even  dreaded  the  consequence.  They  regarded  his  foreign 
manners,  his  profusion,  and  contempt  of  the  laws,  as  so  many 
means  to  make  himself  absolute.  And  Aristophanes  well  ex 
presses  how  the  bulk  of  the  people  were  disposed  toward? 
him: — 


They  love,  they  hate,  but  Jan  not  live  without  him. 

And  again  he  satirizes  him  still  more  severely  by  the  follow 
mg  allusion: — 

Nurse  not  a  lion’s  whelp  within  your  walls; 

But  if  he  is  brought  up  there,  sooth  the  brute. 

The  truth  is,  his  prodigious  liberality,  the  games  he  exhibit¬ 
ed,  and  the  other  extraordinary  instances  of  his  munificence 
to  the  people,  the  glory  of  his  ancestors,  the  beauty  of  his  per¬ 
son,  and  the  force  of  his  eloquence,  together  with  his  heroic 
strength,  his  valour  and  experience  in  war,  so  gained  upon 
the  Athenians,  that  they  connived  at  his  errors,  and  spoke  of 
them  with  all  imaginable  tenderness,  calling  them  sallies  of 
youth,  and  good-humoured  frolics.  Such  were  his  confining 
Agatharcus  the  painter,*  until  he  had  painted  his  house,  and 
then  dismissing  him  with  a  handsome  present;  his  giving  a 
box  on  the  ear  to  Taureus,  who  exhibited  games  in  opposition 
to  him,  and  vied  with  him  for  the  preference;  and  his  taking 
one  of  the  captive  Melian  women  for  his  mistress,  and  bring¬ 
ing  up  a  child  he  had  by  her.  These  were  what  they  called 
his  good-humoured  frolics;  but  surely  we  can  not  bestow  that 
appellation  upon  the  slaughtering  of  all  the  males  in  the  isle  of 
Melos, t  who  had  arrived  at  years  of  puberty,  which  was  in 
consequence  of  a  decree  that  he  promoted.  Again,  when  Ar- 
istophon  had  painted  the  courtezan  Nemea  with  Alcibiades  in 
her  arms,  many  of  the  people  eagerly  crowded  to  see  it;  but 

they,  until  they  had  performed  some  action  to  deserve  them;  in  the  mean 
time  their  shields  were  plain  white.  Alcibiades,  in  his  device,  referred  to 
the  beauty  of  his  person  &nd  hia  martial  prowess.  Mottos,  too,  were  used, 
Capaneus,  for  induce,  here  a  naked  man  with  a  torch  in  his  hand,  the  motto 
this,  I  will  bum  t.kt  diy .  See  more  in  jEschylus’s  tragedy  of  the  Seven 
Chiefs, 

*  This  painter  had  been  familiar  with  Alcibiadcs’s  mistress. 

f  Hie  isle  of  MeV/fl,  ore  of  the  Cyclades,  and  a  colony  of  Lacedaemon, 
was  attempted  by  Alcibiades,  the  last  year  of  the  ninetieth  Olympiad,  and 
taken  the  year  following.  Thucydides,  who  lias  given  us  an  account  of  this 
slaughter  of  the  Melians,  makes  no  mention  of  the  decree.  Probably  he 
.vas  willing  to  have  the  carnage  thought  the  effect  of  a  sudden  transport  in 
.he  soldiery,  and  not  of  a  cruel  and  cool  resolution  of  the  people  of  Athens 

Vor..  t - 3  D 


ALCIB1ADES. 


378 

such  oi  the  Athenians  as  were  more  advanced  in  years,  were 
much  displeased,  and  considered  these  as  sights  fit  only  for  a 
tyrant’s  court,  and  as  insults  on  the  laws  of  Athens.  Nor  was 
it  ill  observed  by  Archestratus,  “that  Greece  could  not  bear 
another  Alcibiades.”  When  Timon,  famed  for  his  misan¬ 
thropy,  saw  Alcibiades,  after  having  gained  his  point,  con¬ 
ducted  home  with  great  honour  from  the  place  of  assembly,  he 
did  not  shun  him  as  he  did  other  men,  but  went  up  to  him, 
and  shaking  him  by  the  hand,  thus  addressed  him: — “Go  on, 
my  brave  boy,  and.  prosper;  for  your  prosperity  will  bring  on 
the  ruin  of  all  this  crowd.”  This  occasioned  various  reflec¬ 
tions;  some  laughed,  some  railed,  and  others  were  extremely 
moved  at  the  saying;  so  various  were  the  judgments  formed  of 
Alcibiades,  by  reason  of  the  inconsistency  of  his  character. 

In  the  time  of  Pericles,*  the  Athenians  had  a  desire  after 
Sicily;  and  when  he  had  paid  the  last  debt  to  nature,  they  at¬ 
tempted  it;  frequently  under  pretence  of  succouring  their 
allies,  sending  aids  of  men  and  money  to  such  of  the  Sicilians 
as  were  attacked  by  the  Syracusans.  This  was  a  step  to  great¬ 
er  armaments.  But  Alcibiades  inflamed  this  desire  to  an  ir¬ 
resistible  degree,  and  persuaded  them  not  to  attempt  the  island 
in  part,  and  by  little  and  little,  but  to  send  a  powerful  fleet  en¬ 
tirely  to  subdue  it.  He  inspired  the  people  with  hopes  of 
great  things,  and  indulged  himself  in  expectations  still  more 
lofty;  for  he  did  not,  like  the  rest,  consider  Sicily  as  the  end 
of  his  wishes,  but  rather  as  an  introduction  to  the  mighty  ex¬ 
peditions  he  had  conceived.  And  while  Nicias  was  dissua¬ 
ding  the  people  from  the  siege  of  Syracuse,  as  a  business  too 
difficult  to  succeed  in,  Alcibiades  was  dreaming  of  Carthage 
and  of  Lyhiat  t>  after  these  were  gained,  he  designed  to 
grasp  Italy  and  Peloponnesus,  regarding  Sicily  as  little  more 
than  a  magazine  for  pm/isions  and  warlike  stores. 

The  young  men  immediately  entered  into  his  schemes,  and 
listened  with  great  attention  to  those  who,  under  the  sanction 
of  age,  related  wonders  concerning  the  intended  expeditions; 

*  Pericles,  by  his  prudence  and  authority,  had  restrained  this  extravagant 
ambition  of  the  Athenians.  He  died  the  last  year  of  the  eighty-seventh 
Olympiad,  in  the  third  year  of  the  Peloponnesian  war.  Two  years  after  this, 
the  Athenians  sent  some  ships  to  Rhegium,  which  were  to  go  from  thence  to 
the  succour  of  the  Leontines,  who  were  attacked  by  the  Syracusans.  The 
year  following,  they  sent  a  still  greater  number;  and  two  years  after  that, 
they  fitted  out  another  fleet  of  a  greater  force  than  the  former;  but  the  Sicili¬ 
ans  having  put  an  end  to  their  divisions,  and  by  the  advice  of  Hermocrates 
(whose  speech  Thucydides,  in  his  fourth  book,  gives  us  at  large),  having  sent 
back  the  fleet,  the  Athenians  were  so  enraged  at  their  generals  for  not  hav¬ 
ing  conquered  Sicily,  that  they  banished  two  of  them,  Pythodorus  and  So¬ 
phocles,  and  laid  a  heavy  fine  upen  Eurymedon.  So  infatuated  were  the} 
by  their  prosperity,  that  they  imagined  themselves  irresistible. 


LLCIBIADES. 


379 


%o  that  many  of  them  sat  whole  days  in  the  places  of  exercise, 
drawing  in  the  dust  the  figure  of  the  island,  and  plans  of  Lybia 
and  Carthage.  However,  we  are  informed,  that  Socrates  the 
philosopher,  and  Meton  the  astrologer,  were  far  from  expect¬ 
ing  that  there  wars  would  turn  to  the  advantage  of  Athens; 
the  former,  it  should  seem,  influenced  by  some  prophetic  no* 
tices  with  which  he  was  favoured  by  the  genius  who  attended 
him;  and  the  latter,  either  by  reasonings  which  led  him  to  fear 
what  was  to  come,  or  else  by  knowledge  with  which  his  art 
supplied  him.  Be  that  as  it  may,  Meton  feigned  himself  mad, 
and  taking  a  flaming  torch,  attempted  to  set  his  house  on  fire. 
Others  say,  that  he  made  use  of  no  such  pretence,  but  burnt 
down  his  house  in  the  night,  and  in  the  morning  went  and 
begged  of  the  peon1  e  to  excuse  his  son  from  that  campaign,  that 
he  might  De  a  comfort  to  him  under  his  misfortune.  By  this 
artifice  he  fcpou  them,  and  gained  his  point. 

Nicipj  was  one  of  his  generals,  much  against  his 

inclination;  f-r  ne  would  have  declined  the  command,  if  it 
had  been  only  on  account  of  his  having  such  a  colleague.  The 
Athenians,  however,  thought  the  war  would  be  belter  con¬ 
ducted,  if  they  did  not  give  free  scope  to  the  impetuosity  of 
Alcibiades,  but  tempered  his  boldness  with  the  prudence  of 
Nicias.  For  as  to  the  third  general,  Lamachus,  though  well 
advanced  in  years,  he  did  not  seem  to  come  at  all  short  of  A1 
cibiades  in  heat  and  rashness. 

When  they  came  to  deliberate  about  the  number  of  the 
troops,  and  the  necessary  preparations  for  the  armament,  Ni¬ 
cias  again  opposed  their  measures,  and  endeavoured  to  prevent 
the  war.  But  Alcibiades  replying  to  his  arguments,  and  car¬ 
rying  all  before  him,  the  orator  Demostratus  proposed  a  de¬ 
cree,  that  the  generals  should  have  the  absolute  direction  of 
the  war,  and  of  all  the  preparations  for  it.  When  the  people 
had  given  their  assent;  and  every  thing  was  got  ready  for  set¬ 
ting  sail,  unlucky  omens  occurred,  even  on  a  festival  which 
was  celebrated  at  that  time.  It  was  the  feast  of  Adonis,*  the 
women  walked  in  procession  with  images,  which  represented 
the  dead  carried  out  to  burial,  acting  the  lamentations,  and 
singing  the  mournful  dirges  usual  on  such  occasions. 


*  On  the  feast  of  Adonis  all  the  cities  put  themselves  in  mourning’;  coffins 
were  exposed  at  every  door;  the  statues  of  Venus  and  Adonis  were  borne  in 
procession,  with  certain  vessels  filled  with  earth,  in  which  they  had  raised 
corn,  herbs,  and  lettuce,  and  these  vessels  were  called  the  gardens  of  Adonis. 
After  the  ceremony  was  over,  the  gardens  were  thrown  into  the  sea,  or  some 
river.  This  festival  was  celebrated  throughout  all  Greece  and  Egypt,  and 
among  the  Jews  too,  when  they  degenerated  into  idolatry,  as  we  learn  from 
Ezekiel ,  viii.  14:  And  behold  there,  sat  women  weeping  for  Tammuz ,  that  is, 
Vdonis. 


380 


ALCIBIADES. 


Add  to  this  the  mutilating  and  disfiguring  of  almost  all  tin 
statues  of  Mercury,*  which  happened  in  one  night;  a  circurr 
stance  which  alarmed  even  those  who  had  long  despised  things 
of  that  nature.  It  was  imputed  to  the  Corinthians,  of  whom 
the  Syracusans  were  a  colony;  and  they  were  supposed  to  have 
done  it,  in  hopes  that  such  a  prodigy  might  induce  the  Athe¬ 
nians  to  desist  from  the  war.  But  the  people  paid  little  re¬ 
gard  to  this  insinuation,  or  to  the  discourses  of  those  who  said 
that  there  was  no  manner  of  ill  presage  in  what  happened,  and 
that  it  was  nothing  but  the  wild  frolic  of  a  parcel  of  young  fel¬ 
lows,  flushed  with  wine,  and  bent  on  some  extravagance.  In¬ 
dignation  and  fear  made  them  take  this  event  not  only  for  a 
bad  omen,  but  for  the  consequence  of  a  plot  which  aimed  at 
greater  matters;  and  therefore  both  senate  and  people  assem¬ 
bled  several  times  within  a  few  days,  and  very  strictly  exam¬ 
ined  every  suspicious  circumstance. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  demagogue  Androcles  produced  some 
Athenian  slaves  and  certain  sojourners,  who  accused  Alcibia- 
des  and  his  friends  of  defacing  some  other  statues,  and  of  mim¬ 
icking  the  sacred  mysteries  in  one  of  their  drunken  revels;  on 
which  occasion,  they  said,  one  Theodorus  represented  tht 
herald,  Polytion  the  torch-bearer,  and  Alcibiades  the  high- 
priest;  his  other  companions  attending  as  persons  initiated, 
and  therefore  called  Mystse.  Such  was  the  import  of  the  de¬ 
position  of  Thessalus  the  son  of  Cimon,  who  accused  Alcibia¬ 
des  of  impiety  towards  the  goddesses  Ceres  and  Proserpine. 
The  people  being  much  provoked  at  Alcibiades,  and  Andro¬ 
cles  his  bitterest  enemy  exasperating  them  still  more,  at  first 
he  was  somewhat  disconcerted.  But  when  he  perceived  that 
the  seamen  and  soldiers  too,  intended  for  the  Sicilian  expedi¬ 
tion,  were  on  his  side,  and  heard  a  body  of  Argives  and  Man- 
tineans,  consisting  of  a  thousand  men,  declare  that  they  were 
willing  to  cross  the  seas,  and  to  run  the  risk  of  a  foreign  war 
for  the  sake  of  Alcibiades,  but  that  if  any  injury  were  done  to 
him,  they  would  immediately  march  home  again;  then  he  re¬ 
covered  his  spirits,  and  appeared  to  defend  himself.  It  was 
now  his  enemy’s  turn  to  be  discouraged,  and  to  fear  that  the 
people,  on  account  of  the  need  they  had  of  him,  would  be  fa¬ 
vourable  in  their  sentence.  To  obviate  this  inconvenience, 
they  persuaded  c<  rtain  orators,  who  were  not  reputed  to  be  his 
enemies,  but  hated  him  as  heartily  as  the  most  professed  ones, 
to  move  it  to  the  people, — “That  it  was  extremely  absurd, 
that  a  general  who  was  invested  with  a  discretionary  power, 
and  a  very  important  command,  when  the  troops  were  collect 

*  The  Athenians  had  statues  of  Merc  iry  at  the  doors  of  their  houses,  made 
of  stones  of  a  cubical  form. 


ALCIBIADES. 


381 


ed  and  the  allies  all  ready  to  sail,  should  lose  time,  while  they 
were  casting  lots  forjudges,  and  filling  the  glasses  with  water, 
to  measure  out  the  time  of  his  defence.  In  the  name  of  the 
gods  let  him  sail,  and  when  the  war  is  concluded,  be  accounta¬ 
ble  to  the  laws,  which  will  still  be  the  same.” 

Alcibiades  easily  saw  their  malicious  drift  in  wanting  to  put 
off  the  trial,  and  observed, — “  That  it  would  be  an  intolerable 
nardship  to  leave  such  accusations  and  calumnies  behind  him, 
and  be  sent  out  with  so  important  a  commission,  while  he  was 
in  suspense  as  to  his  own  fate.  That  he  ought  to  suffer  death, 
if  he  could  not  clear  himself  of  the  charge;  but  if  he  could 
prove  his  innocence,  justice  required  that  he  should  be  set  free 
from  ah  fear  of  false  accusers  lefore  they  sent  him  against 
their  enemies.”  But  he  could  not  obtain  that  favour.  He 
was  indeed  ordered  to  set  sail,*  which  he  accordingly  did,  to¬ 
gether  with  his  colleagues,  having  near  a  hundred  and  forty 
galleys  in  his  company,  five  thousand  one  hundred  heavy 
armed  soldiers,  and  about  a  thousand  three  hundred  archers, 
slingers,  and  others,  light-armed,  with  suitable  provisions  and 
stores. 

Arriving  on  the  coast  of  Italy,  he  landed  at  Rhegium.  There 
he  gave  his  opinion  as  to  the  manner  in  which  the  war  should 
be  conducted,  and  was  opposed  by  Nicias:  but  as  Lamachus 
agreed  with  him,  he  sailed  to  Sicily,  and  made  himself  master 
ofCatana.t  This  was  all  he  performed,  being  soon  sent  for 
by  the  Aihenians  to  take  his  trial.  At  first,  as  we  have  ob¬ 
served,  there  was  nothing  against  him  but  slight  suspicions, 
and  the  depositions  of  slaves  and  persons  who  sojourned  in 
Athens.  But  his  enemies  took  advantage  of  his  absence  to 
bring  new  matter  of  impeachment,  adding  to  the  mutilating  of 
the  statues  his  sacrilegious  behaviour  with  respect  to  the  mys¬ 
teries,  ana  alleging  that  both  these  crimes  flowed  from  the 
same  sonice;f  a  conspiracy  to  change  the  government.  All 
that  were  accused  of  being  any  wise  concerned  in  it,  they  com¬ 
mitted  to  prison  unheard;  and  they  repented  exceedingly  that 
they  had  not  immediately  brought  Alcibiades  to  his  trial,  and 
got  him  condemned  upon  so  heavy  a  charge.  While  this  fury 
lasted,  every  relation,  every  friend  and  acquaintance  of  his, 
was  very  severely  dealt  with  by  the  people. 

Thucydides  has  omitted  the  names  of  the  accusers,  but 


*  The  second  year  of  the  eighty-first  Olympiad,  and  seventeenth  of  the  Pe¬ 
loponnesian  war. 

■f  By  surprise. —  Thucyd.  lib.  vi. 

i  They  gave  out,  that  he  had  entered  into  a  conspiracy  to  betray  the  city 
to  the  Lacedaemonians,  and  that  he  hid  persuaded  the  Argives  to  undertake 
something  to  their  prejudice. 


34 


ALC1AIADES. 


382 

others  mention  Dioclides  and  Teucer.  So  Phrynichus,  the 
«*omic  poet, 

Good  Hermes,  pray  beware  a  fall;  nor  break 
Thy  marble  nose,  lest  some  false  Dioclides 
Once  more  his  shafts  in  fatal  poison  drench. 

Merc.  I  will;  nor  e’er  again  shall  that  informer 
Teucer,  that  faithless  stranger,  boast  from  me 
Rewards  for  perjury. 

Indeed,  no  clear  or  strong  evidence  was  given  by  the  in 
formers.*  One  of  them  being  asked  how  he  could  distinguish 
the  faces  of  those  who  disfigured  the  statues,  answered,  that 
he  discerned  them  by  the  light  of  the  moon;  which  was  a  plain 
falsity,  for  it  was  done  at  the  time  of  the  moon’s  change.  All 
persons  of  understanding  exclaimed  against  such  baseness,  but 
this  detection  did  not  in  the  least  pacify  the  people;  they  went 
on  with  the  same  rage  and  violence  with  which  they  had  be¬ 
gun,  taking  informations,  and  committing  all  to  prison  whose 
names  were  given  in. 

Among  those  that  were  then  imprisoned,  in  order  to  their 
trial,  was  the  orator  Andocides,  whom  Hellanicus  the  histo¬ 
rian  reckons  among  the  descendants  of  Ulysses.  He  was 
thought  to  be  no  friend  to  a  popular  government,  but  a  favour¬ 
er  of  oligarchy.  What  contributed  not  a  little  to  his  being  sus¬ 
pected  of  having  some  concern  in  defacing  the  Hezmae,  was, 
that  the  great  statue  of  Mercury,  wdiich  was  placed  near  his 
house,  being  consecrated  to  that  god  by  the  tribe  called  the 
iEge’fs,  was  almost  the  only  one,  amongst  the  more  remarka¬ 
ble,  which  was  left  entire.  Therefore,  to  this  day  it  is  called 
the  Hermes  of  Andocides,  and  that  title  universally  prevails, 
though  the  inscription  does  not  agree  with  it. 

It  happened,  that  among  those  who  were  imprisoned  on  the 
same  account,  Andocides  contracted  an  acquaintance  and 
friendship  with  one  Timseus,  a  man  not  equal  in  rank  to  him¬ 
self,  but  of  uncommon  parts  and  a  daring  spirit.  He  advised 
Andocides  to  accuse  himself  and  a  few  more;  because  the  de¬ 
cree  promised  impunity  to  any  one  that  would  confess  and  in¬ 
form,  whereas  the  event  of  the  trial  was  uncertain  to  all,  and 
much  to  be  dreaded  by  such  of  them  as  were  persons  of  dis¬ 
tinction.  He  represented  that  it  was  better  to  save  his  life  by 
a  falsity,  than  to  suffer  an  infamous  death  as  one  really  guilty 
of  the  crime;  and  that  with  respect  to  the  public,  it  would 
be  an  advantage  to  give  up  a  few  persons  of  dubious  character, 

♦ - ctnidut  The  translation  of  1758  renders  it  pregnant 

moofs;  though  Plutarch  observes,  a  little  lower,  that  the  proofs  were  very 
weak,  and  the  evidence  false  and  inconsistent 


AJLCIBIADES.  383 

in  order  to  rescue  many  good  men  from  an  enraged  popu 
lace. 

Andocides  was  prevailed  upon  by  these  arguments  of  Ti- 
mseus:  and  informing  against  himself  and  some  others,  enjoy 
ed  the  impunity  promised  by  the  decree,  but  all  the  rest  whom 
he  named  were  capitally  punished,  except  a  few  that  fled. 
Nay,  to  procure  the  greater  credit  to  his  deposition,  he  ac 
cused  even  his  own  servants. 

However,  the  fury  of  the  people  was  not  so  satisfied;  but 
turning  from  the  persons  who  had  disfigured  the  Hermse,  as  if 
it  had  reposed  awhile  only  to  recover  its  strength,  it  fell  total¬ 
ly  upon  Alcibiades.  At  last  they  sent  the  Salaminian  galley 
to  fetch  him,  artfully  enough  ordering  their  officer  not  to  use 
violence,  or  to  lay  hold  on  his  person,  but  to  behave  to  him 
with  civility,  and  to  acquaint  him  with  the  people’s  orders, 
that  he  should  go  and  take  his  trial,  and  clear  himself  before 
them;  for  they  were  apprehensive  of  some  tumult  and  mutiny 
in  the  army,  now  it  was  in  an  enemy’s  country,  which  Alci- 
biades,  had  he  been  so  disposed,  might  have  raised  with  all 
the  ease  in  the  world.  Indeed,  the  soldiers  expressed  great 
uneasiness  at  his  leaving  them,  and  expected  that  the  war 
would  be  spun  out  to  a  great  length  by  the  dilatory  counsels 
of  Nicias,  when  the  spur  was  taken  away.  Lamachus,  in¬ 
deed,  was  bold  and  brave,  but  he  was  wanting  both  in  dignity 
and  weight,  by  reason  of  his  poverty. 

Alcibiades  immediately  embarked;*  the  consequence  of 
which  was,  that  the  Athenians  could  not  take  Messena. 
There  were  persons  in  the  town  ready  to  betray  it,  whom 
Alcibiades  perfectly  knew;  and  as  he  apprised  some  that  were 
friends  to  the  Syracusans  of  their  intention,  the  affair  mis¬ 
carried. 

As  soon  as  he  arrived  at  Thurii,  he  went  on  shore,  and  con 
cealing  himself  there,  eluded  the  search  which  was  made  after 
him.  But  some  person  knowing  him,  and  saying, — “Will 
not  you,  then,  trust  your  country?”  he  answered, — “As  to 
any  thing  else  I  will  trust  her;  but  with  my  life  I  would  not 
trust  even  my  mother,  lest  she  should  mistake  a  black  bean 
for  a  white  one.”  Afterwards,  being  told  that  the  republic 
bad  condemned  him  to  die,  he  said, — “But  I  will  make  them 
find  that  I  am  alive.” 

The  information  against  him  ran  thus: — “  Thessalus,  the 
son  of  Cimon,  of  the  ward  of  Licias,  accuseth  Alcibiades,  the 
son  of  Clinias,  of  the  ward  of  Scambonis,  of  sacrilegiously 
offending  the  goddesses  Ceres  and  Proserpine,  by  counterfeit- 


*  He  pruden+ly  embarked  on  a  ressel  of  his  own,  and  not  on  the  Salami- 
nan  g-alley. 


384 


ALCI131ADES. 


jug  their  mysteries,  and  showing  them  to  his  companions  in 
his  own  house:  wearing  such  a  robe  as  the  high-priest  does 
while  he  shows  the  holy  things,  he  called  himself  high-priest, 
as  he  did  Polytion,  torch-bearer,  and  Theodorus,  of  the  ward 
of  Phygea,  herald;  and  the  rest  of  his  companions  he  called 
persons  initiated ,*  and  brethren  of  the  secret ;  herein  acting  con¬ 
trary  to  the  rules  and  ceremonies  established  by  the  Eumol- 
pidae,t  the  heralds  and  priests  at  Eleusis.”  As  he  did  not  ap¬ 
pear,  they  condemned  him,  confiscated  his  goods,  and  ordered 
all  the  priests  and  priestesses  to  denounce  an  execration  against 
him;  which  was  denounced  accordingly  by  all  but  Theano  the 
daughter  of  Menon,  priestess  of  the  temple  of  Agraulus,  who 
excused  herself,  alleging  that  she  was  a  priestess  for  prayer,  not 
for  execration . 

While  these  decrees  and  sentences  were  passing  against  Al- 
cibiades,  he  was  at  Argos;  having  quitted  Thurii,  which  no 
longer  afforded  him  a  safe  asylum,  to  come  into  Peloponnesus. 
Still  dreading  his  enemies,  and  giving  up  all  hopes  of  being 
restored  to  his  country,  he  sent  to  Sparta  to  desire  permission 
to  live  there  under  the  protection  of  the  public  faith,  promis¬ 
ing  to  serve  that  state  more  effectually,  now  he  was  their 
friend,  than  he  had  annoyed  them  whilst  their  enemy.  The 
Spartans  granting  him  a  safe  conduct,  and  expressing  their 
readiness  to  receive  him,  he  went  thither  with  pleasure.  One 
thing  he  soon  effected,  wThich  w^as  to  procure  succours  for 
Syracuse  without  further  hesitation  or  delay,  having  persuad¬ 
ed  them  to  send  Gylippus  thither,  to  take  upon  him  the  di¬ 
rection  of  the  war,  and  to  crush  the  Athenian  power  in  Sicily. 
Another  thing  which  he  persuaded  them  to,  was  to  declare 
war  against  the  Athenians,  and  to  begin  its  operations  on  the 
continent:  and  the  third,  which  was  the  most  important  of  all, 
wTas  to  get  Decelea  fortified;  for  this  being  in  tne  neighbour¬ 
hood  of  Athens,  was  productive  of  great  mischief  to  that  com¬ 
monwealth.  J 

*  The  Mystae ,  or  persons  initiated,  were  to  remain  a  year  under  proba¬ 
tion,  during  which  time  they  were  to  go  no  farther  than  the  vestibule  of 
the  temple;  after  that  term  was  expired  they  were  called  epoptae ,  and 
admitted  to  all  the  mysteries,  except  such  as  were  reserved  for  the  priests 

oi  y. 

•|  Eumolpus  was  the  first  who  settled  these  mysteries  of  Ceres,  for  which 
reason  his  descendants  had  the  care  of  them  after  him;  and  when  his  line 
failed,  those  who  succeeded  in  the  function,  were,  notwithstanding,  called 
Eumolpidx. 

t  Agis,  king  of  Sparta,  at  the  head  of  a  very  numerous  army  of  Lacedemo¬ 
nians,  Corinthians,  and  other  nations  of  Peloponnesus,  invaded  Attica,  and 
according  to  the  advice  which  Alcibiades  had  given,  seized  and  fortified 
Decelea,  which  stood  at  an  equal  distance  from  Athens  and  the  frontiers  of 
Hcrotia,  bv  means  of  which  the  Athenians  were  now  deprived  of  the  profits 


alcibiades. 


385 


These  measures  procured  Alcibiades  the  public  approbation 
at  Sparta,  and  he  was  no  less  admired  for  his  manner  of  living 
in  private.  By  conforming  to  their  diet  and  other  austerities, 
he  charmed  and  captivated  the  pei  pie.  When  they  saw  him 
close  shaved,  bathing  in  cold  water,  feeding  on  their  coarse 
bread,  or  eating  their  black  broth,  they  could  hardly  believe 
that  such  a  man  had  ever  kept  a  cook  in  his  house,  seen  a  per¬ 
fumer,  or  worn  a  robe  of  Milesian  purple  It  seems,  that 
amongst  his  other  qualifications,  he  had  the  very  extraordi¬ 
nary  art  of  engaging  the  affections  of  those  with  whom  he 
conversed,  by  imitating  and  adopting  their  customs  and  way 
of  living.  Nay,  he  turned  himself  into  all  manners  of  forms 
with  more  ease  than  the  chameleon  changes  his  colour.  It  is 
not,  we  are  told,  in  that  animal’s  power  to  assume  a  white, 
but  Alcibiades  could  adapt  himself  either  to  good  or  bad,  and 
did  not  find  any  thing  which  he  attempted  impracticable. 
Thus,  at  Sparta  he  was  all  for  exercise,  frugal  in  his  diet,  and 
severe  in  his  manners.  In  Asia  he  was  as  much  for  mirth  and 
pleasure,  luxury  and  ease  In  Thrace  again,  riding  and  drink¬ 
ing  were  his  favourite  amusements;  and  in  the  palace  of  Tissa- 
phernes  the  Persian  grandee,  he  outvied  the  Persians  them¬ 
selves  in  pomp  and  splendour.  Not  that  he  could  with  so 
much  ease  change  his  real  manners,  or  approve  in  his  heart  the 
form  which  he  assumed;  but  because  he  knew  that  his  native 
manners  would  be  unacceptable  to  those  whom  he  happened 
to  be  with,  he  immediately  conformed  to  the  ways  and  fashions 
of  whatever  place  he  came  to.  When  he  was  at  Lacedaemon, 
if  you  regarded  only  his  outside,  you  would  say,  as  the  pro¬ 
verb  does;  This  is  not  the  son  of  Achilles,  hut  Achilles  himself 
this  man  has  surely  been  brought  up  under  the  eye  of  Lycur- 
gus:  but  then  if  you  looked  more  nearly  into  his  disposition 
and  his  actions,  you  would  exclaim  with  Electra  in  the  poet, 
The  same  weak  woman  still!*  F or  while  king  Agis  was  employ¬ 
ed  in  a  distant  expedition,  he  corrupted  his  wife  Timaca  so 
effectually,  that  she  was  with  child  him,  and  did  not  pre¬ 
tend  to  deny  it,  and  when  she  was  delivered  of  a  son,  though 
in  public  she  called  him  Leotychidas,  yet  in  her  own  house 
she  whispered  to  her  female  friends  and  to  her  servants,  that 


of  the  silver  mines,  of  the  rents  of  their  lands,  and  of  the  succours  of  their 
neighbours.  But  the  greatest  misfortune  which  happened  to  the  Athenians, 
from  the  beginning  of  the  war  to  tins  time,  was  that  which  befel  them  this 
year  in  Sicily,  where  they  not  only  lost  the  conquest  they  aimed  at,  to¬ 
gether  with  the  reputation  they  had  so  long  maintained,  but  their  fleet, 
their  army,  and  their  generals. 

*This  is  sp.oken  of  Hermione,  in  the  Orestes  of  Euripides,  upon  her  dis¬ 
covering  the  same  vanity  and  solicitude  about  her  beauty,  when  advanced 
in  years,  that  she  had  when  she  was  young. 

Vol.  i. - 3  E  34* 


386 


ALCIBIADES. 


his  true  name  was  Alcibiades:  to  such  a  degree  was  the  wo¬ 
man  transported  by  her  passion.  And  Alcibiades  himself, 
indulging  his  vein  of  mirth,  used  to  say,  “  His  motive  was 
not  to  injure  the  king,  or  to  satisfy  his  appetite,  but  that  his 
offspring  might  one  day  sit  on  the  throne  of  Lacedremon.” 
Agis  had  information  of  these  matters  from  several  hands,  and 
he  was  the  more  ready  to  give  credit  to  them,  because  they 
agreed  with  the  time.  Terrified  with  an  earthquake,  he  had 
quitted  his  wife’s  chamber,  to  which  he  returned  not  for  the 
next  ten  months:  at  the  end  of  which  Leotychidas  being  born, 
he  declared  the  child  was  not  his;  and  for  this  reason  he  was 
never  suffered  to  inherit  the  crown  of  Sparta. 

After  the  miscarriage  of  the  Athenians  in  Sicily,  the  people 
of  Chios,  of  Lesbos,  and  Cyzicum,  sent  to  treat  with  the 
Spartans  about  quitting  the  interests  of  Athens,  and  putting 
themselves  under  the  protection  of  Sparta.  The  Boeotians  on 
this  occasion  solicited  for  the  Lesbians,  and  Pharnabazus  for 
the  people  of  Cyzicum;  but,  at  the  persuasion  of  Alcibiades, 
succours  were  sent  to  those  of  Chios  before  all  others.  He 
likewise  passed  over  into  Ionia,  and  prevailed  with  almost  all 
that  country  to  revolt;  and  attending  the  Lacedaemonian  gene* 
rals  in  the  execution  of  most  of  their  commissions,  he  did 
great  prejudice  to  the  Athenians. 

But  Agis,  who  was  already  his  enemy,  on  account  of  the 
injury  done  to  his  bed,  could  not  endure  his  glory  and  pros¬ 
perity;  for  most  of  the  present  successes  were  ascribed  to  Al¬ 
cibiades.  The  great  and  the  ambitious  among  the  Spartans 
were  indeed,  in  general,  touched  with  envy;  and  had  influence 
enough  with  the  civil  magistrate,  to  procure  orders  to  be  sent 
to  their  friends  in  Ionia  to  kill  him.  But  timely  foreseeing 
his  danger,  and  cautioned  by  his  fears,  in  every  step  he  took, 
he  still  served  the  Lacedaemonians,  taking  care  all  the  while 
not  to  put  himself  in  their  power.  Instead  of  that,  he  sought 
the  protection  of  Tissaphernes,  one  of  the  grandees  of  Persia, 
or  lieutenants  of  the  king.  With  this  Persian  he  soon  attained 
the  highest  credit  and  authority;  for  himself  a  very  subtle  and 
insincere  man,  he  admired  the  art  and  keenness  of  Alcibiades. 
Indeed,  by  the  elegance  of  his  conversation,  and  the  charms 
of  his  politeness,  every  man  was  gained,  all  hearts  were  touch 
ed  Even  those  that  feared  and  envied  him  were  not  insenu- 
ble  to  pleasure  in  his  company;  and  while  they  enjoyed  it, 
their  resentment  was  disarmed.  Tissaphernes,  in  all  other 
cases  savage  in  his  temper,  and  the  bitterest  enemy  tha 
Greece  experienced  among  the  Persians,  gave  himself  up,  not 
withstanding,  to  the  flatteries  of  Alcibiades,  insomuch  that  he 
even  vied  with  and  exceeded  him  in  address.  For  of  all  his 
gardens,  that  which  excelled  in  beauty,  which  was  remarka 


ALCIBIADES* 


387 


ble  for  the  salubrity  of  its  streams  and  the  freshness  of  its  mea¬ 
dows,  which  was  set  off  with  pavilions  royally  adorned,  and 
retirements  finished  in  the  most  elegant  taste,  he  distinguish¬ 
ed  by  the  name  of  Alcibiades ;  and  every  one  continued  to  give  it 
that  appellation. 

Rejecting,  therefore,  the  interests  of  Lacedaemon,  and  fear 
ing  that  people  as  treacherous  to  him,  he  represented  them  and 
their  king  Agis  in  a  disadvantageous  light  to  Tissaphernes. 
He  advised  him  not  to  assist  them  effectually,  nor  absolutely 
to  ruin  the  Athenians,  but  to  send  his  subsidies  to  Sparta  with 
a  sparing  hand;  that  so  the  two  powers  might  insensibty  weak¬ 
en  and  consume  each  other,  and  both  at  last  be  easily  subject¬ 
ed  to  the  king.  Tissaphernes  readily  followed  his  counsels,  and 
it  was  evident  to  all  the  world  that  he  held  him  in  the  greatest 
admiration  and  esteem,  which  made  him  equally  considerable 
with  the  Greeks  of  both  parties.  The  Athenians  repented  of 
the  sentence  they  had  passed  upon  him,  because  they  had  suf¬ 
fered  for  it  since;  and  Alcibiades,  on  his  side,  was  under  some 
fear  and  concern,  lest,  if  their  republic  were  destroyed,  he 
should  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Lacedaemonians,  who  hated 
him. 

At  that  time  the  whole  strength  of  the  Athenians  lay  at  Sa¬ 
mos.  With  their  ships  sent  out  from  thence,  they  recovered 
some  of  the  towns  which  had  revolted,  and  others  they  kept  to 
their  duty;  and  at  sea  they  were  in  some  measure  able  to  make 
head  against  their  enemies.  But  they  were  afraid  of  Tissa¬ 
phernes,  and  the  Phoenician  fleet  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  ships, 
which  were  said  to  be  coming  against  them;  for  against  such 
a  force  they  could  not  hope  to  defend  themselves.  Alcibiades, 
apprised  of  this,  privately  sent  a  messenger  to  the  principal 
Athenians  at  Samos,  to  give  them  hopes  that  he  would  pro¬ 
cure  them  the  friendship  of  Tissaphernes;  not  to  recommend 
himself  to  the  people,  whom  he  could  not  trust,  but  to  oblige 
the  nobility,  if  they  would  but  exert  their  superiority,  repress 
the  insolence  of  the  commonalty,  and  taking  the  government 
into  their  own  hands,  by  that  means  save  their  country. 

All  the  officers  readily  embraced  his  proposal,  except  Phry- 
nichus,  who  was  of  the  ward  of  Dirades.  He  alone  suspected 
what  was  really  the  case,  that  it  was  a  matter  of  very  little  con¬ 
sequence  to  Alcibiades  whether  an  oligarchy  or  democracy 
prevailed  in  Athens;  that  it  was  his  business  to  get  himself 
recalled  by  any  means  whatever;  and  that  therefore,  by  his  in¬ 
vectives  against  the  people,  he  wanted  only  to  insinuate  him¬ 
self  into  the  good  graces  of  the  nobility.  Upon  these  reasons 
proceeded  the  opposition  of  Phrynichus;  but  seeing  his  opinion 
disregarded,  and  that  Alcibiades  must  certainly  become  his 
enemy,  he  gave  secret  intelligence  to  Astyochus  the  enemy’s 


^88 


ALCIBIADES. 


admiral,  of  the  double  part  which  Alcibiades  acted,  advising 
him  to  beware  cf  his  designs,  and  to  secure  his  person.  Bui 
he  knew  not  that  while  he  was  betraying,  he  was  himself  be¬ 
trayed;  for  Astyochus,  wanting  to  make  his  court  to  Tissa- 
phernes,  informed  Alcibiades  of  the  affair,  who,  he  knew,  had 
the  ear  of  that  grandee. 

Alcibiades  immediately  sent  proper  persons  to  Samos  with 
an  accusation  against  Phrynichus;  who  seeing  no  other  re¬ 
source,  as  every  body  was  against  him,  and  expressed  great 
indignation  at  his  behaviour,  attempted  to  cure  one  evil  with 
another,  and  a  greater;  for  he  sent  to  Astyochus  to  complain 
of  his  revealing  his  secret,  and  to  offer  to  deliver  up  to  him  the 
whole  Athenian  fleet  and  army.  This  treason  of  Phrynichus, 
however,  did  no  injury  to  the  Athenians,  because  it  was  again 
betrayed  by  Astyochus;  for  he  laid  the  whole  matter  before 
Alcibiades.  Phrynichus  had  the  sagacity  to  foresee  and  ex¬ 
pect  another  accusation  from  Alcibiades;  and  to  be  beforehand 
with  him,  he  himself  forewarned  the  Athenians  that  the  enemy 
would  endeavour  to  surprise  them,  and  therefore  desired  them 
to  be  upon  their  guard,  to  keep  on  board  their  ships,  and  to 
fortify  their  camp. 

While  the  Athenians  were  doing  this,  letters  came  from  Al¬ 
cibiades  again,  advising  them  to  beware  of  Phrynichus,  who 
had  undertaken  to  betray  their  fleet  to  the  enemy:  but  they 
gave  no  credit  to  these  despatches,  supposing  that  Alcibiades, 
who  perfectly  knew  the  preparations  and  intentions  of  the  ene¬ 
my,  abused  that  knowledge  to  the  raising  of  such  a  calumny 
against  Phrynichus.  Yet  afterwards,  when  Phrynichus  wTas 
stabbed  in  full  assembly  by  one  of  Hermon’s  soldiers,  who 
kept  guard  that  day,  the  Athenians,  taking  cognizance  of  the 
matter,  after  his  death,  condemned  Phrynichus  as  guilty  of  trea¬ 
son,  and  ordered  Hermon  and  his  party  to  be  crowned  for  de¬ 
spatching  a  traitor. 

The  friends  of  Alcibiades,  who  now  had  a  superior  interest 
at  Samos,  sent  Pisander  to  Athens,  to  change  the  form  of  go¬ 
vernment,  by*  encouraging  the  nobility  to  assume  it,  and  to  de¬ 
prive  the  people  of  their  power  and  privileges,  as  the  condi¬ 
tion  upon  which  Alcibiades  would  procure  them  the  friendship 
and  alliance  of  Tissaphernes.  This  was  the  colour  of  the  pre¬ 
tence  made  use  of  by  those  who  wanted  to  introduce  an  oli¬ 
garchy.  But  when  the  body  which  were  called  the  Jive  thou¬ 
sand,  but  in  fact  were  only  four  hundred ,*  had  got  the  power 

*  It  was  at  first  proposed  that  only  the  dregs  of  the  people  should  lose 
their  authority,  which  was  to  be  vested  in  five  thousand  of  the  most  wealthy, 
who  were  for  the  future  to  be  reputed  the  people.  But  when  Pisander  and 
his  associates  found  the  strength  of  their  party,  they  carried  it  that  the  old 
form  of  government  should  be  dissolved,  and  that  five  Pry  tones  should  be 


ALCIB1ADES. 


B89 


into  their  hands,  they  paid  but  little  attention  to  Alcibiades9 
and  carried  on  the  war  but  slowly;  partly  distrusting  the  citi¬ 
zens,  who  did  not  yet  relish  the  new  form  of  government,  and 
partly  hoping  that  the  Lacedaemonians,  who  were  always  in¬ 
clined  to  favour  an  oligarchy,  would  not  press  them  with  their 
usual  vigour. 

Such  of  the  commonalty  as  were  at  home,  were  silent 
through  fear,  though  much  against  their  will;  for  a  number  of 
those  who  had  openly  opposed  the  four  hundred ,  were  put  to 
death.  But  when  they  that  were  at  Samos  were  informed  of 
the  affair,  they  were  highly  incensed  at  it,  and  inclined  imme¬ 
diately  to  set  sail  for  the  Piraeus.  In  the  first  place,  however, 
they  sent  for  Alcibiades;  and  having  appointed  him  their  ge¬ 
neral,  ordered  him  to  lead  them  against  the  tyrants,  and  de 
molish  both  them  and  their  power.  On  such  an  occasion,  al 
most  any  other  man,  suddenly  exalted  by  the  favour  of  the 
multitude,  would  have  thought  he  must  have  complied  with 
all  their  humours,  and  not  have  contradicted  those  in  any 
thing,  who,  from  a  fugitive  and  a  banished  man,  had  raised  him 
to  be  commander-in-chief  of  such  a  fleet  and  army.  But  he 
behaved  as  became  a  great  general,  and  prevented  their  plung¬ 
ing  into  error  through  the  violence  of  their  rage.  This  care 
of  his  evidently  was  the  saving  of  the  commonwealth.  For  if 
they  had  sailed  home,  as  they  promised,  the  enemy  would 
have  seized  on  Ionia  immediately,  and  have  gained  the  Hel¬ 
lespont  and  the  islands  without  striking  a  stroke;  while  the 
Athenians  would  have  been  engaged  in  a  civil  war,  of  which 
Athens  itself  must  have  been  the  seat.  All  this  was  prevented 
chiefly  by  Alcibiades,  who  not  only  tried  what  arguments 
would  do  with  the  army  in  general,  and  informed  them  of  their 
danger,  but  applied  to  them  one  by  one,  using  entreaties  to 
some  and  force  to  others;  in  which  he  was  assisted  by  the  loud 
harangues  of  Thrasybulus,  of  the  ward  of  Stira;  who  attended 
him  through  the  whole,  and  had  the  strongest  voice  of  any 
man  among  the  Athenians. 

Another  great  service  performed  by  Alcibiades  was,  his  un¬ 
dertaking  that  the  Phoenician  fleet,  which  the  Lacedaemonians 
expected  from  the  king  of  Persia,  should  eitner  join  the  Athe¬ 
nians,  or  at  least  not  act  on  the  enemy’s  side.  In  consequence 
of  this  promise  he  set  out  as  expeditiously  as  possible;  and 
prevailed  upon  Tissaphernes  not  to  forward  the  ships,  which 
were  already  come  as  far  as  Aspendus,  but  to  disappoint  and 
deceive  the  Lacedaemonians.  Nevertheless,  both  sides,  and 

elected;  that  these  five  should  choose  a  hundred;  that  each  of  the  hundred 
should  choose  three;  that  the  four  hundred  thus  elected  should  become  a 
senate  with  supreme  power,  and  should  consult  the  five  thousand  only  when 
and  on  such  matters  as  they  thought  fit. 


390 


AL  JIBIADES. 


particularly  the  Lacedaemonians,  accused  Alcibiades  of  hin 
dering  that  fleet  from  coming  to  their  aid;  for  they  supposed 
he  had  instructed  the  Persians  to  leave  the  Greeks  to  destroy 
each  other.  And,  indeed,  it  was  obvious  enough  that  such  a 
force  added  to  either  side,  would  entirely  have  deprived  the 
other  of  the  dominion  of  the  sea. 

After  this,  the  four  hundred  were  soon  quashed,*  the  friends 
of  Alcibiades  very  readily  assisting  those  who  were  for  a  de¬ 
mocracy.  And  now  the  people  of  the  city  not  only  wished 
for  him,  but  commanded  him  to  return;!  yet  he  thought  it  not 
best  to  return  with  empty  hands,  or  without  having  effected 
something  worthy  of  note,  but  instead  of  being  indebted  to  the 
compassion  and  favour  of  the  multitude,  to  distinguish  his  ap¬ 
pearance  by  his  merit.  Parting,  therefore,  from  Samos  with 
a  few  ships,  he  cruised  on  the  sea  of  Cnidus  and  about  the  isle 
of  Coos,  where  he  got  intelligence  that  Mindarus  the  Spartan 
admiral,  was  sailed  with  his  whole  fleet  towards  the  Helles¬ 
pont,  to  find  out  the  Athenians.  This  made  him  hasten  to  the 
assistance  of  the  latter,  and  fortunately  enough  he  arrived 
with  his  eighteen  ships  at  the  very  juncture  of  time,  when  the 
two  fleets  having  engaged  near  Abydos,  continued  the  fight 
from  morning  until  night,  one  side  having  the  advantage  in 
the  right  wing,  and  the  other  on  the  left.  J 

On  the  appearance  of  his  squadron,  both  sides  entertained 
a  false  opinion  of  the  end  of  his  coming;  for  the  Spartans  were 
encouraged,  and  the  Athenians  struck  with  terror.  But  he 
soon  hoisted  the  Athenian  flag  on  the  admiral  galley,  and  bore 
down  directly  upon  the  Peloponnesians,  who  now  had  the  ad¬ 
vantage,  and  were  urging  the  pursuit.  His  vigorous  impres¬ 
sion  put  them  to  flight,  and  following  them  close  he  drove  them 
ashore,  destroying  their  ships,  and  killing  such  of  their  men 
as  endeavoured  to  save  themselves  by  swimming,  though 
Pharnabazus  succoured  them  all  he  could  from  the  shore,  and 
with  an  armed  force  attempted  to  save  their  vessels.  The  con¬ 
clusion  was,  fuat  the  Athenians,  having  taken  thirty  of  the  ene¬ 
my’s  ships,  and  recovered  their  own,  erected  a  trophy. 

After  this  glorious  success,  Alcibiades,  ambitious  to  show 
himself  as  soon  as  possible  to  Tissaphernes,  prepared  presents 
and  other  proper  acknowledgments  for  his  friendship  and  hos- 

*  The  same  year  that  they  were  set  up,  which  was  the  second  of  the  ninety- 
second  Olympiad.  The  reader  must  carefully  distinguish  this  faction  of 
four  hundred  from  the  senate  of  four  hundred  established  by  Solon,  which 
these  turned  out  the  few  months  they  were  in  power. 

■j"  Ai/TOC  CDiTCD  fitv  X&VCili  fAvf*  *7rp*X’'T(,tC. 

$  Thucydides  does  not  speak  of  this  arrival  of  Alcibiades;  but  probably 
he  did  not  live  to  have  a  clear  account  of  this  action,  for  he  died  this  yeai 
Xenonhon,  who  continued  his  history,  mentions  it. 


ALCIBIADES. 


39.1 


pitality,  and  then  went  to  wait  upon  him  with  a  rmncely  train. 
But  he  was  not  welcomed  in  the  manner  he  expected:  for  Tis* 
saphernes,  who  for  some  time  had  been  accused  by  the  Lace¬ 
daemonians,  and  was  apprehensive  that  the  charge  might  reach 
the  king's  ear,  thought  the  coming  of  Alcibiades  a  very  sea 
sonable  incident,  and  therefore  put  him  under  arrest,  and  con¬ 
fined  him  at  Sardis,  imagining  that  injurious  proceeding  would 
be  a  means  to  clear  himself. 

Thirty  days  after,  Alcibiades  having  by  some  means  or 
other  obtained  a  horse,  escaped  from  his  keepers,  and  fled  to 
Clazomenae;  and,  by  way  of  revenge,  he  pretended  that  Tis- 
saphernes  privately  set  him  at  liberty.  From  thence  he  pass¬ 
ed  to  the  place  where  the  Athenians  were  stationed;  and  being 
informed,  that  Mindarus  and  Pharnabazus  were  together  at 
Cyzicum,  he  showed  the  troops  that  it  was  necessary  for  them 
to  fight  both  by  sea  and  land,  nay,  even  to  fight  with  stone 
walls,  if  that  should  be  required,  in  order  to  come  at  their 
enemies:  for  if  the  victory  were  not  complete  and  universal, 
they  could  come  at  no  money.  Then  he  embarked  the  force, 
and  sailed  to  Proconesus,  where  he  ordered  them  to  take  the 
lighter  vessels  into  the  middle  of  the  fleet,  and  to  have  a  par¬ 
ticular  care  that  the  enemy  might  not  discover  that  he  was 
coming  against  them.  A  great  and  sudden  rain  which  hap¬ 
pened  to  fall  at  that  time,  together  with  dreadful  thunder  and 
darkness,  was  of  great  service  in  covering  his  operations. 
For  not  only  the  enemy  were  ignorant  of  his  design,  but  the 
very  Athenians,  whom  he  had  ordered  in  great  haste  on 
board,  did  not  presently  perceive  that  he  was  under  sail 
Soon  after  the  weather  cleared  up,  and  the  Peloponnesian 
ships  were  seen  riding  at  anchor  in  the  road  of  Cyzicum. 
Lest,  therefore,  the  enemy  should  be  alarmed  at  the  largeness 
of  his  fleet,  and  save  themselves  by  getting  on  shore,  he  di¬ 
rected  many  of  the  officers  to  slacken  sail,  and  keep  out  of 
sight,  while  he  showed  himself,  with  forty  ships  only,  and 
challenged  the  Lacedaemonians  to  the  combat.  The  stratagem 
had  its  effect;  for,  despising  the  small  number  of  galleys  which 
they  saw,  they  immediately  weighed  anchor,  and  engaged; 
but  the  rest  of  the  Athenian  ships  coming  up  during  the  en¬ 
gagement,  the  Lacedaemonians  were  struck  with  terror  and 
lied.  Upon  that  Alcibiades,  with  twenty  of  his  best  ships, 
breaking  through  the  midst  of  them,  hastened  to  the  shore, 
and  having  made  a  descent,  pursued  those  that  fled  from  the 
ships,  and  killed  great  numbers  of  them.  He  likewise  de¬ 
feated  Mindarus  and  Pharnabazus,  who  came  to  their  succour. 
Mindarus  made  a  brave  resistance,  -  \nd  was  slain;  but  Pharna¬ 
bazus  saved  himself  by  flight. 

The  Athenians  remained  masters  of  the  field,  and  of  the 


392 


ALCIBIADES 


spoils,  and  took  all  the  enemy’s  ships.  Having  also  possessed 
themselves  of  Cyzicum,  which  was  abandoned  by  Pharnaba¬ 
zus,  and  deprived  of  the  assistance  of  the  Peloponnesians,  whc 
were  almost  all  cut  ofF,  they  not  only  secured  the  Hellespont, 
but  entirely  cleared  the  sea  of  the  Lacedsemonians.  The  let¬ 
ter  also  was  intercepted,  which,  in  the  laconic  style,  was  to 
give  the  Ephori  an  account  of  their  misfortune.  “Our  glory 
is  faded.  Mindarus  is  slain.  Our  soldiers  are  starving;  and 
we  know  not  what  step  to  take.” 

On  the  other  hand,  Alcibiades’s  men  were  so  elated,  and 
took  so  much  upon  them,  because  they  had  always  been  vic¬ 
torious,  that  they  would  not  vouchsafe  even  to  mix  with  othei 
troops  that  had  been  sometimes  beaten.  It  happened,  not 
long  before,  that  Thrasyllus  having  miscarried  in  his  attempt 
upon  Ephesus,  the  Ephesians  erected  a  trophy  of  brass,  in  re 
proach  of  the  Athenians.*  The  soldiers  of  Alcibiades,  there 
fore,  upbraided  those  of  Thrasyllus  with  this  affair,  magnify¬ 
ing  themselves  and  their  general,  and  disdaining  to  join  the 
others  either  in  the  place  of  exercise  or  in  the  camp.  But 
soon  after,  when  Pharnabazus,  with  a  strong  body  of  horse 
and  foot,  attacked  the  forces  of  Thrasyllus,  who  were  ravag¬ 
ing  the  country  about  Abydos,  Alcibiades  marched  to  their 
assistance,  routed  the  enemy,  and,  together  with  Thrasyllus, 
pursued  them  uniil  night.  Then  he  admitted  Thrasyllus  into 
his  company,  and,  with  mutual  civilities  and  satisfaction,  they 
returned  to  the  camp.  Next  day  he  erected  a  trophy,  and 
plundered  the  province  which  was  under  Pharnabazus,  with¬ 
out  the  least  opposition.  The  priests  and  priestesses  he  made 
prisoners,  among  the  rest,  but  soon  dismissed  them,  without 
ransom.  From  thence  he  intended  to  proceed  and  lay  siege 
to  Chalcedon,  which  had  withdrawn  its  allegiance  from  the 
Athenians,  and  received  a  Lacedaemonian  garrison  and  go¬ 
vernor;  but  being  informed  that  the  Chalcedonians  had  col¬ 
lected  their  cattle  and  corn,  and  sent  it  all  to  the  Bithynians, 
their  friends,  he  led  his  army  to  the  frontier  of  the  Bithynians, 
and  sent  a  herald  before  him,  to  summon  them  to  surrender  it. 
They,  dreading  his  resentment,  gave  up  the  booty,  and  en 
lered  into  an  alliance  with  him. 

Afterwards  he  returned  to  the  siege  of  Chalcedon,  and  en 
closed  it  with  a  wall  which  reached  from  sea  to  sea.  Pharna 
bazus  advanced  to  raise  the  siege,  and  Hippocrates  the  go 
pernor,  sallied  out  with  his  whole  force  to  attack  the  Athe- 


*  Trophies  before  had  been  of  wood,  but  the  Ephesians  erected  this  of 
brass,  to  perpetuate  the  infamy  of  the  Athenians,  and  it  was  this  new  and 
mortifying'  circumstance  with  which  Alcibiades’s  soldiers  reproached  those 
tjf  Thrasyllus. —  Diodor.  lib.  xiii. 


ALCIBIADES. 


393 


Qians;  but  Alcibiades  drew  up  his  army  so  as  to  engage  them 
both  at  once,  and  he  defeated  them  both;  Pharnabazus  betak¬ 
ing  himself  to  flight,  and  Hippocrates  being  killed,  together 
with  the  greatest  part  of  his  troops.  •  This  done,  he  sailed  in¬ 
to  Ihe  Hellespont,  to  raise  contributions  in  the  towns  upon  the 
coast. 

In  this  voyage  he  took  Selybria;  but  in  the  action  unneces¬ 
sarily  exposed  himself  to  great  danger.  The  persons  who 
promised  to  surrender  the  town  to  him,  agreed  to  give  him  a 
signal  at  midnight  with  a  lighted  torch;  but  they  were  obliged 
to  do  it  before  the  time,  for  fear  of  some  one  that  was  in  the 
secret,  who  suddenly  altered  his  mind.  The  torch,  therefore, 
being  held  up  before  the  army  was  ready,  Alcibiades  took 
about  thirty  men  with  him,  and  ran  to  the  walls,  having  or¬ 
dered  the  rest  to  follow  as  fast  as  possible.  The  gate  was 
opened  to  him;  and  twenty  of  the  conspirators,  lightly  armed, 
joining  his  small  company,  he  advanced  with  great  spirit,  but 
soon  perceived  the  Selybrians,  with  their  weapons  in  their 
hands,  coming  forward  to  attack  him.  As  to  stand  and  fight 
promised  no  sort  of  success,  and  he,  who  to  that  hour  had 
never  been  defeated,  did  not  choose  to  fly,  he  ordered  a  trum¬ 
pet  to  command  silence,  and  proclamation  to  be  made,  that  the 
Selybrians  should  not ,  under  the  pain  of  the  republic’s  high  dis 
pleasure,  take  up  arms  against  the  Athenians.  Their  inclination 
to  the  combat  was  then  immediately  damped,  partly  from  a 
supposition  that  the  whole  Athenian  army  was  within  the  walls, 
and  partly  from  the  hopes  they  conceived  of  coming  to  tolera¬ 
ble  terms.  Whilst  they  were  talking  together  of  this  order, 
the  Athenian  army  came  up,  and  Alcibiades  rightly  conjectur¬ 
ing  that  the  inclinations  of  the  Selybrians  were  for  peace,  was 
afraid  of  giving  the  Thracians  an  opportunity  to  plunder  the 
:own.  These  last  came  down  in  great  numbers  to  serve  under 
nim  as  volunteers,  from  a  particular  attachment  to  his  person, 
out,  on  this  occasion,  he  sent  them  all  out  of  the  town;  and, 
upon  the  submission  of  the  Selybrians,  he  saved  them  from 
being  pillaged,  demanding  only  a  sum  of  money,  and  leaving 
a  garrison  in  the  place. 

Mean  time,  the  other  generals,  who  carried  on  the  siege  of 
Chalcedon,  came  to  an  agreement  with  Pharnabazus,  on  these 
conditions;  namely,  that  a  sum  of  money  should  be  paid  them 
by  Pharnabazus;  that  the  Chalcedonians  should  return  to  their 
allegiance  to  the  republic  of  Athens;  and  that  no  injury  should 
ne  done  the  province  of  which  Pharnabazus  was  governor,  who 
undertook  that  the  Athenian  ambassadors  should  be  conducted 
safe  to  the  king.  Upon  the  return  of  Alcibiades,  Pharnabazus 
desired  that  he  too  would  swear  to  the  performance  of  the  ar 
tides;  but  Alcibiades  insisted  that  Pharnabazus  should  sweaj 
Vol.  i - 3  F  3,5 


394 


ALCIBIADES. 


first.  When  the  treaty  was  reciprocally  confirmed  with  an 
oath,  Alcibiades  went  against  Byzantium,  which  had  revolted, 
and  drew  a  line  of  circumvallation  about  the  city.  While  he 
was  thus  employed,  Anaxilaus,  Lycurgus,  and  some  others, 
secretly  promised  to  deliver  up  the  place,  on  condition  that  he 
would  keep  it  from  being  plundered.  Hereupon  he  caused  it 
to  be  reported,  that  certain  weighty  and  unexpected  affairs 
called  him  back  to  Ionia,  and  in  the  day-time  he  set  sail,  with 
his  whole  fleet;  but  returning  at  night,  he  himself  disembark 
ed  with  the  land  forces,  and  posting  them  under  the  walls,  he 
commanded  them  not  to  make  the  least  noise.  At  the  same 
time,  the  ships  made  for  the  harbour,  and  the  crews  pressing 
in,  with  loud  shouts  and  great  tumult,  astonished  the  Byzan¬ 
tines,  who  expected  no  such  matter.  Thus  an  opportunity 
was  given  to  those  within  the  walls,  who  favoured  the  Athe¬ 
nians,  to  receive  them  in  great  security,  while  every  body’s 
attention  was  engaged  upon  the  harbour  and  the  ships. 

The  affair  passed  not,  however,  without  blows;  for  the  Pe¬ 
loponnesians,  Boeotians,  and  Megarensians,  who  were  at  By¬ 
zantium,  having  driven  the  ships’  crews  back  to  their  vessels, 
and  perceiving  that  the  Athenian  land  forces  were  got  into  the 
town,  charged  them  too  with  great  vigour.  The  dispute  was 
sharp,  and  the  shock  great,  but  victory  declared  for  Alcibiades 
and  Theramenes.  The  former  of  these  generals  commanded 
the  right  wing,  and  the  latter  the  left.  About  three  hundred 
of  the  enemy,  who  survived,  were  taken  prisoners.  Not  one 
of  the  Byzantines,  after  the  battle,  was  either  put  to  death  or 
banished;  for  such  were  the  terms  on  which  the  town  was 
given  up,  that  the  citizens  should  be  safe  in  their  persons  and 
their  goods. 

Hence  it  was,  that  when  Anaxilaus  was  tried  at  Lacedaemon 
for  treason,  he  made  a  defence  which  reflected  no  disgrace 
upon  his  past  behaviour;  for  he  told  them, — “That  not  being 
a  Lacedaemonian,  but  a  Byzantine,  and  seeing  not  Lacedaemon 
but  Byzantium  in  danger,  its  communication  with  those  that 
might  have  relieved  it  stopped,  and  the  Peloponnesians  and 
Boeotians  eating  up  the  provisions  that  were  left  while  the 
Byzantines,  with  their  wives  and  children,  were  starving;  he 
had  not  betrayed  the  town  to  an  enemy,  but  delivered  it  from 
calamity  and  war;  herein  imitating  the  worthiest  men  among 
the  Lacedaemonians,  who  had  no  other  rule  of  justice  and  ho¬ 
nour,  but  by  all  possible  means  to  serve  their  country.”  The 
Lacedaemonians  were  so  much  pleased  with  this  speech,  that 
they  acquitted  him,  and  all  that  were  concerned  with  him. 

Alcibiades,  by  this  time,  desirous  to  see  his  native  country, 
and  still  more  desirous  to  be  seen  by  his  countrymen,  after  so 
m v:i.Y glorious  victories,  set  sail  with  the  Athenian  fleet,  adorn- 


ALCIBIADES. 


395 


ed  with  many  shields,  and  other  spoils  of  the  enemy;  a  greaj 
number  of  ships  that  he  had  taken  making  up  the  rear,  and  the 
flags  of  many  more  which  he  had  destroyed,  being  carried  in 
triumph;  for  all  of  them  together  were  not  fewer  than  two 
hundred.  But  as  to  what  is  added  by  Duris  the  Samian,  who 
boasts  of  his  being  descended  from  Alcibiades,  that  the  oars 
kept  time  to  the  flute  of  Chrysogonus,  who  had  been  victori¬ 
ous  in  the  Pythian  games;  that  Callipides  the  tragedian,  attir- 
eA  in  his  buskins,  magnificent  robes,  and  other  theatrical  or¬ 
naments,  gave  orders  to  those  who  laboured  at  the  oars;  and 
that  the  admiral  galley  entered  the  harbour  with  a  purple  sail, 
as  if  the  whole  had  been  a  company  who  had  proceeded  from 
a  debauch  to  such  a  frolic.  These  are  particulars  not  mention¬ 
ed  either  by  Theopompus,  Ephorus,  or  Xenophon.  Nor  is  it 
probable  that,  at  his  return  from  exile,  and  after  such  misfor¬ 
tunes  as  he  had  suffered,  he  would  insult  the  Athenians  in  that 
manner.  So  far  from  it  that  he  approached  the  shore  with 
some  fear  and  caution;  nor  did  he  venture  to  disembark,  until, 
as  he  stood  upon  the  deck,  he  saw  his  cousin  Euryptolemus, 
with  many  others  of  his  friends  and  relations,  coming  to  re¬ 
ceive  and  invite  him  to  land. 

When  he  was  landed,  the  multitude  that  came  out  to  meet 
him,  did  not  vouchsafe  so  much  as  to  look  upon  the  other  gem 
erals,  but  crowding  up  to  him  with  shouts  of  joy,  conducted 
him  on  the  way,  and  such  as  could  approach  him,  crowned 
him  with  garlands;  while  those  that  could  not  come  up  so  close, 
viewed  him  at  a  distance,  and  the  old  men  pointed  him  out  to 
the  young.  Many  tears  were  mixed  with  the  public  joy,  and 
the  memory  of  past  misfortunes  with  the  sense  of  their  present 
success;  for  they  concluded  that  they  should  not  have  miscar¬ 
ried  in  Sicily,  or  indeed  have  failed  in  any  of  their  expecta¬ 
tions,  if  they  had  left  the  direction  of  affairs,  and  the  command 
of  the  forces,  to  Alcibiades;  since  now  having  exerted  himself 
in  behalf  of  Athens,  when  it  had  almost  lost  its  dominion  of 
the  sea,  was  hardly  able  to  defend  its  own  suburbs,  and  was 
moreover  harassed  with  intestine  broils,  he  had  raised  it  from 
that  low  and  ruinous  condition,  so  as  not  only  to  restore  its 
maritime  power,  but  to  render  it  victorious  every  where  by 
land 

The  act  for  recalling  him  from  banishment  had  been  passed, 
at  the  motion  of  Critias  the  son  of  Callaeschrus,*  as  appears 

*  This  Critias  was  uncle  to  Plato’s  mother,  and  the  same  that  he  intro¬ 
duces  in  his  Dialogues.  Though  now  the  friend  of  Alcibiades,  yet,  as  the 
lust  of  power  destroys  all  tics,  when  one  of  the  thirty  tyrants,  he  became 
his  bitter  enemy,  and  sending  to  Lysander,  assured  him  that  Athens  would 
never  be  quiet.,  or  Sparta  safe,  until  Alcibiades  was  destroyed.  Critias  wan 


396 


ALCIB1ADES. 


from  his  elegies,  in  which  he  puts  Alcibiades  in  mind  of  his 
service 


If  you  no  more  in  hapless  exile  mourn. 

The.  praise  is  mine. - 

The  p3ople  presently  meeting  in  full  assembly,  Alcibiades 
came  in  among  them,  and  having,  in  a  pathetic  manner,  be¬ 
wailed  his  misfortunes,  he  very  modestly  complained  of  their 
treatment,  ascribing  all  to  his  hard  fo  une,  and  the  influence 
of  some  envious  demon.  He  then  proceeded  to  discourse  of 
the  hopes  and  designs  of  their  enemies,  against  whom  he  used 
his  utmost  endeavours  to  animate  them.  And  they  were  so 
much  pleased  with  his  harangue,  that  they  crowned  him  with 
crowns  of  gold,  and  gave  him  the  absolute  command  of  their 
forces,  both  by  sea  and  land.  They  likewise  made  a  decree, 
that  his  estate  should  be  restored  to  him,  and  that  the  Eumol- 
pidae  and  the  heralds  should  take  off  the  execrations  which 
they  had  pronounced  against  him,  by  order  of  the  people. 
Whilst  the  rest  were  employed  in  expiations  for  this  purpose, 
Theodorus,  the  high  priest,  said, — “For  his  part,  he  had  never 
denounced  any  curse  against  him,  if  he  had  done  no  injury  to 
the  commonwealth.” 

Amidst  this  glory  and  prosperity  of  Alcibiades,  some  peo¬ 
ple  were  still  uneasy,  looking  upon  the  time  of  his  arrival  as 
ominous;  for  on  that  very  day  was  kept  the  plynteria ,*  or  puri¬ 
fying  of  the  goddess  Minerva.  It  was  the  twenty-fifth  of 
May,  when  the  Praxiergidae  perform  those  ceremonies  which 
are  not  to  be  revealed,  disrobing  the  image,  and  covering  it 
up.  Hence  it  is  that  the  Athenians,  of  all  days,  reckon  this 
the  most  unlucky,  and  take  the  most  care  not  to  do  business 
upon  it;  and  it  seemed  that  the  goddess  did  not  receive  him 
graciously,  but  rather  with  aversion,  since  she  hid  her  face 
from  him.  Notwithstanding  all  this,  every  thing  succeeded 
according  to  his  wish;  three  hundred  galleys  were  manned, 
and  ready  to  put  to  sea  again;  but  a  laudable  zeal  detained  him 
until  the  celebration  of  the  Mysteries.!  For  after  the  Lace¬ 
daemonians  had  fortified  Deceiea,  which  commanded  the  roads 
to  Eleusis,  the  feast  was  not  kept  with  its  usual  pomp,  because 

afterwards  slain  by  Thrasybulus,  when  he  delivered  Athens  from  that  ty¬ 
ranny. 

*  On  that  day,  when  the  statue  of  Minerva  was  washed,  the  temples  were 
encompassed  with  a  cord,  to  denote  that  they  were  shut  up,  as  was  cus¬ 
tomary  on  all  inauspicious  days.  They  carried  dried  fig's  in  procession,  bo  - 
cause  that  was  the  first  fruit  which  was  eaten  after  acorns. 

j-  The  festival  of  Ceres  and  Proserpine  continued  nine  days.  On  the  sixtJb 
day,  they  carried  in  procession  to  Eleusis  the  statue  of  Bacchus,  whom  they 
aupposed  to  be  the  son  of  Jupiter  and  Ceres. 


ALCIBIADES. 


397 


they  were  obliged  to  conduct  the  procession  by  sea;  the  saerj 
fices,  the  sacred  dances,  and  other  ceremonies,  which  had  been 
performed  on  the  way,  called  holy,  while  the  image  of  Bacchus 
was  carried  in  procession,  being  on  that  account  necessarily 
omitted.  Alcibiades,  therefore  judged  it  would  be  an  act 
conducive  to  the  honour  of  the  gods,  and  to  his  reputation 
with  men,  to  restore  those  rites  to  their  due  solemnity,  by 
conducting  the  procession  with  his  army,  and  guarding  it 
gainst  the  enemy.  By  that  means,  either  king  Agis  would 
be  humbled,  if  he  suffered  it  to  pass  unmolested;  or,  if  he  at¬ 
tacked  the  convoy,  Alcibiades  would  have  a  fight  to  maintain 
in  the  cause  of  piety  and  religion,  for  the  most  venerable  of  its 
mysteries,  in  the  sight  of  his  country,  and  all  his  fellow-citi¬ 
zens  would  be  witnesses  of  his  valour. 

When  he  had  determined  upon  this,  and  communicated  his 
design  to  the  Eumolpidse  and  the  heralds,  he  placed  sentinels 
upon  the  eminences,  and  set  out  his  advanced  guard  as  soon 
as  it  was  light.  Next  he  took  the  priests,  the  persons  initia¬ 
ted,  and  Ihose  who  had  the  charge  of  initiating  others,  and 
•covering  them  with  his  forces,  led  them  on  in  great  order  and 
profound  silence;  exhibiting  in  that  march  a  spectacle  so  august 
and  venerable,  that  those  who  did  not  envy  him,  declared  he 
had  performed  not  only  the  office  of  a  general,  but  of  a  high 
priest.  Not  a  man  of  the  enemy  dared  to  attack  him,  and  he 
conducted  the  procession  back  in  great  safety,  which  both  ex¬ 
alted  him  in  his  own  thoughts,  and  gave  the  soldiery  such  an 
opinion  of  him,  that  they  considered  themselves  as  invincible 
while  under  his  command;  and  he  gained  such  an  influence 
over  the  mean  and  indigent  part  of  the  people,  that  they  were 
passionately  desirous  to  see  him  invested  with  absolute  power, 
insomuch,  that  some  of  them  applied  to  him  in  person,  and 
exhorted  him,  in  order  to  quash  the  malignity  of  envy  at  once, 
to  abolish  the  privileges  of  the  people,  and  the  laws,  and  to 
quell  those  busy  spirits  who  would  otherwise  be  the  ruin  of 
the  state;  for  then  he  might  direct  affairs,  and  proceed  to  ac¬ 
tion,  without  fear  of  groundless  impeachments. 

What  opinion  he  himself  had  of  this  proposal  we  know  not; 
but  this  is  certain,  that  the  principal  citizens  were  so  apprehen¬ 
sive  of  his  aiming  at  arbitrary  power,  that  they  got  him  to 
embark  as  soon  as  possible:  and  the  more  to  expedite  the  mat¬ 
ter,  they  ordered,  among  other  things,  that  he  should  have 
the  choice  of  his  colleagues.  Putting  to  sea,  therefore,  with 
a  fleet  of  a  hundred  ships,  he  sailed  to  the  isle  of  Andros, 
where  he  fought  and  defeated  the  Andrians,  and  such  of  the 
Lacedaemonians  as  assisted  them;  but  yet  he  did  not  take  the 
city,  which  gave  his  enemies  the  first  occasion  for  the  charge 
which  they  afterwards  brought  against  him.  Indeed,  if  ever 
35* 


398 


ALCIBIADES 


man  was  ruined  by  a  high  distinction  of  character,  it  was  Alci 
blades;*  for  his  continual  successes  had  procured  such  an 
opinion  of  his  courage  and  capacity,  that  when  afterwards  he 
happened  to  fail  in  what  he  undertook,  it  was  suspected  to  be 
from  want  of  inclination,  and  no  one  would  believe  it  was  from 
want  of  ability.  They  thought  nothing  too  hard  for  him,  when 
he  pleased  to  exert  himself.  They  hoped  also  to  hear  that 
Chios  was  taken,  and  all  Ionia  reduced,  and  grew  impatient 
when  every  thing  was  not  despatched  as  suddenly  as  they  de¬ 
sired.  They  never  considered  the  smallness  of  his  supplies; 
and  that,  having  to  carry  on  the  war  against  people  who  were 
furnished  out  of  the  treasury  of  a  great  king,  he  was  often 
under  the  necessity  of  leaving  his  camp,  to  go  in  search  of 
money  and  provisions  for  his  men. 

This  it  was  that  gave  rise  to  the  last  accusation  against  him. 
Lysander  the  Lacedaemonian  admiral,  out  of  the  money  he 
received  from  Cyrus,  raised  the  wages  of  each  mariner  from 
three  oboli  a-day  to  four;  whereas  it  was  with  difficulty  that 
Alcibiades  paid  his  men  three.  The  latter,  therefore,  went 
into  Caria  to  raise  money,  leaving  the  fleet  in  charge  with  An¬ 
tiochus,*  who  was  an  experienced  seaman,  but  rash  and  incon¬ 
siderate.  Though  he  had  express  orders  from  Alcibiades  to 
let  no  provocation  from  the  enemy  bring  him  to  hazard  an  en 
gagement,  yet,  in  his  contempt  of  those  orders,  having  taken 
some  troops  on  board  his  own  galley  and  one  more,  he  stood 
for  Ephesus,  where  the  enemy  lay;  and  as  he  sailed  by  the 
heads  of  their  ships,  insulted  them  in  the  most  insufferable 
manner,  both  by  words  and  actions.  Lysander  sent  out  a  few 
ships  to  pursue  him;  but  as  the  whole  Athenian  fleet  came  up 
to  assist  Antiochus,  he  drew  out  the  rest  of  his,  and  gave  bat¬ 
tle  and  gained  a  complete  victory.  He  slew  Antiochus  him¬ 
self,  took  many  ships  and  men,  and  erected  a  trophy.  Upon 
this  disagreeable  news,  Alcibiades  returned  to  Samos,  from 
whence  he  moved  with  the  whole  fleet,  to  offer  Lysander  bat¬ 
tle;  but  Lysander,  content  with  the  advantage  he  had  gained, 
did  not  think  proper  to  accept  it. 

Among  the  enemies  which  Alcibiades  had  in  the  army, 
Thrasybulus  the  son  of  Thrason,  being  the  most  determined, 
quitted  the  camp,  and  went  to  Athens,  to  impeach  him.  To 
incense  the  people  against  him,  he  declared,  in  full  assembly, 

*  It  was  not  altogether  the  universality  of  his  success  that  rendered  Alci¬ 
biades  suspected,  when  he  came  short  of  public  expectation.  The  dupli¬ 
city  of  his  character  is  obvious,  from  the  whole  account  of  his  life.  He  paid 
not  the  least  regard  to  veracity  in  political  matters;  and  it  is  not  to  be  won¬ 
dered  if  such  principles  made  him  continually  obnoxious  to  the  suspicion 
•f  the  people. 


ALCIBIADES. 


39: 


that  Alcibiades  liad  been  the  ruin  of  their  affairs,  and  the 
means  of  losing  their  ships,  by  his  insolent  and  imprudent  be¬ 
haviour  in  command,  and  by  leaving  the  direction  of  every 
thing  to  persons  who  had  got  into  credit  with  him,  through 
the  great  merit  of  drinking  deep,  and  cracking  seamen’s  jokes, 
whilst  he  was  securely  traversing  the  provinces  to  raise  money, 
indulging  his  love  of  liquor,  or  abandoning  himself  to  his  plea¬ 
sures  with  the  courtesans  of  Ionia  and  Abydos;  and  this  at  a 
time  when  the  enemy  was  stationed  at  a  small  distance  from 
his  fleet.  It  was  also  objected  to  him,  that  he  had  built  a  cas¬ 
tle  in  Thrace,  near  the  city  of  Bisanthe,  to  be  made  use  of  as  a 
retreat  for  himself,  as  if  he  either  could  not,  or  would  not, 
live  any  longer  in  his  own  country.  The  Athenians  giving 
ear  to  these  accusations,  to  show  their  resentment  and  dislike 
to  him,  appointed  new  commanders  of  their  forces.  * 
Alcibiades  was  no  sooner  informed  of  it,  than  consulting 
his  own  safety,  he  entirely  quitted  the  Athenian  army;  and 
having  collected  a  band  of  strangers,  he  made  war,  on  his  own 
account,  against  those  Thracians  who  acknowledged  no  king. 
The  booty  he  made  raised  him  great  sums;  and,  at  the  same 
time,  he  defended  the  Grecian  frontier  against  the  barbarians 
Tydeus,  Menander,  and  Adimantus,  the  new-made  generals, 
being  now  at  iEgos  Potamos,t  with  all  the  ships  which  the 
Athenians  had  left,  used  to  stand  out  early  every  morning, 
and  offer  battle  to  Lysander,  whose  station  was  at  Lampsacus, 
and  then  to  return,  and  pass  the  day  in  a  disorderly  and  care 
less  manner,  as  if  they  despised  their  adversary.  This  seem¬ 
ed  to  Alcibiades,  who  was  in  the  neighbourhood,  a  matter  not 
to  be  passed  over  without  notice.  He,  therefore,  went  and 
told  the  generals,  J — “  He  thought  their  station  by  no  means 
safe,  in  a  place  where  there  was  neither  town  nor  harbour; 
that  it  was  very  inconvenient  to  have  their  provisions  and 
stores  from  so  distant  place  as  Sestos;  and  extremely  danger¬ 
ous  to  let  their  seamen  go  ashore,  and  wander  about  at  their 
p  easure,  whilst  a  fleet  was  observing  them,  which  was  under 
the  orders  of  one  man,  and  the  strictest  discipline  imaginable. 


*  They  appointed  ten  generals - Xenopli.  lib.  i. 

•j-  Plutarch  passes  over  almost  three  years;  namely,  the  twenty-fifth  of  the 
Peloponnesian  war;  the  twenty-sixth,  in  which  the  Athenians  obtained  the 
victory  at  Arginusae,  and  put  six  of  the  ten  generals  to  death,  upon  a  slight 
accusation  of  their  colleague  Theramenes;  and  almost  the  whole  twenty-se¬ 
venth,  towards  the  end  of  which  the  Athenians  sailed  to  iEgo-s  Potamos, 
where  they  received  the  blow  that  is  spoken  of  in  this  place. 

i  The  officers  at  the  head  of  the  Grecian  armies  and  navy,  we  sometime:! 
call  generals,  and  sometimes  admirals,  because  they  commonly  cc  n^anded 
both  by  sea  and  land. 


ALCIBIADES. 


100 

He,  therefore,  advised  them  to  remove  their  station  to  Ses 
tos.” 

The  generals,  however,  gave  no  attention  to  what  he  said, 
and  Tydeus  was  so  insolent  as  even  to  bid  him  begone,  for 
that,  they,  not  he,  were  now  to  give  orders.  Alcibiades,  sus¬ 
pecting  that  there  was  some  treachery  in  the  case,  retired, 
telling  his  acquaintance,  who  *onducted  him  out  of  the  camp 
that  if  he  had  not  been  insulted  in  such  an  insupportable  mar 
ner  by  the  generals,  he  would,  in  a  few  days,  have  obliged  the 
Lacedaemonians,  however  unwilling,  either  to  come  to  an  ac¬ 
tion  at  sea,  or  else  to  quit  their  ships.  This  to  some  appear¬ 
ed  a  vain  boast;  to  others  it  seemed  not  at  all  improbable, 
since  he  might  have  brought  down  a  number  of  Thracian 
archers  and  cavalry,  to  attack  and  harass  the  Lacedemonian 
camp.  * 

The  event  soon  showed  that  he  judged  right  of  the  errors 
which  the  Athenians  had  committed;  for  Lysander  falling 
upon  them,  when  they  least  expected  it,  eight  galleys  only 
escaped, t  along  with  Conon;  the  rest,  not  much  short  of  two 
hundred,  were  taken  and  carried  away,  together  with  three 
thousand  prisoners,  who  were  afterwards  put  to  death.  And 
within  a  short  time  after  Lysander  took  Athens  itself,  burnt 
the  shipping,  and  demolished  the  long  walls. 

Alcibiades,  alarmed  at  the  success  of  the  Lacedaemonians, 
who  were  now  masters  both  at  sea  and  land,  retired  into  Bi- 
thynia.  Thither  he  ordered  much  treasure  to  be  sent,  and 
took  large  sums  wuth  him,  but  still  left  more  behind  in  the 
castle  w^here  he  had  resided.  In  Bithynia  he  once  more  lost 
great  part  of  his  substance,  being  stript  by  the  Thracians  there; 
which  determined  him  to  go  to  Artaxerxes,  and  entreat  hi? 
protection.  He  imagined  that  the  king,  upon  trial,  would  find 
him  no  less  serviceable  than  Themistocles  had  been,  and  he 
had  a  better  pretence  to  his  patronage;  for  he  was  not  going 
to  solicit  the  king’s  aid  against  his  countrymen,  as  Themisto¬ 
cles  had  done,  but  for  his  country  against  its  worst  enemies. 
He  concluded  that  Pharnabazus  was  most  likely  to  procure 
him  a  safe  conduct,  and  therefore  went  to  him  in  Phrygia, 
where  he  staid  some  time,  making  his  court,  and  receiving 
marks  of  respect. 

It  was  a  grief  to  the  Athenians  to  be  deprived  of  their  pow- 
*r  and  dominion;  but  when  Lysander  robbed  them  also  of 

*  When  a  fleet  remained  some  time  at  one  particular  station,  there  waj 
generally  a  body  of  land-forces,  and  part  of  the  mariners  too,  encamped  up¬ 
on  the  shore. 

\  There  was  a  ninth  ship,  called  Paralus,  which  escaped,  and  carried  th« 
news  of  their  defeat  to  Athens.  Conon  himself  retired  to  Cyprus. 


ALCIBIADES. 


401 


their  liberty,  and  put  their  city  under  the  autnority  of  thirty 
chiefs,  they  were  still  more  miserably  afflicted.  Now  their 
affairs  were  ruined,  they  perceived  with  regret  the  measures 
which  would  have  saved  them,  and  which  they  had  neglected 
to  make  use  of;  now  they  acknowledged  their  blindness  and 
errors,  and  looked  upon  their  second  quarrel  with  Alcibiades 
as  the  greatest  of  those  errors. — They  had  cast  him  off  without 
any  offence  of  his;  their  anger  had  been  grounded  upon  the  ill 
conduct  of  his  lieutenant  in  losing  a  few  ships;  and  their  own 
conduct  had  been  still  worse,  in  depriving  the  commonwealth 
of  the  most  excellent  and  valiant  of  all  its  generals.  Yet 
amidst  their  present  misery  there  was  one  slight  glimpse  of 
hope,  that  while  Alcibiades  survived,  Athens  could  not  be  ut¬ 
terly  undone.  For  he,  who  before  was  not  content  to  lead  an 
inacti  ve,  though  peaceable  life,  in  exile,  would  not  now,  if  his 
own  affairs  were  upon  any  tolerable  footing,  sit  still  and  see 
the  insolence  of  the  Lacedaemonians,  and  the  madness  of  the 
thirty  tyrants,  without  endeavouring  at  some  remedy.  Nor  was 
it  at  all  unnatural  for  the  multitude  to  dream  of  such  relief, 
since  those  thirty  chiefs  themselves  were  so  solicitous  to  in¬ 
quire  after  Alcibiades,  and  gave  so  much  attention  to  what 
he  was  doing  and  contriving. 

At  last,  Critias  represented  to  Lysander,  that  the  Lacedae¬ 
monians  could  never  securely  enjoy  the  empire  of  Greece  till 
the  Athenian  democracy  was  absolutely  destroyed.  And 
though  the  Athenians  seemed  at  present  to  bear  an  oligarchy 
with  some  patience,  yet  Alcibiades,  if  he  lived,  would  not  suf 
fer  them  long  to  submit  to  such  a  kind  of  government.  Ly 
sander,  however,  could  not  be  prevailed  upon  by  these  argu 
ments,  until  he  received  private  orders  from  the  magistrates 
of  Sparta, '*  to  get  Alcibiades  despatched;  whether  it  was  that 
they  dreaded  his  great  capacity,  and  enterprising  spirit,  or 
whether  it  was  done  in  complaisance  to  king  Agis.  Lysander 
then  sent  to  Pharnabazus,  to  desire  him  to  put  this  order  In 
execution;  and  he  appointed  his  brother  Magacus  and  his 
uncle  Susamithres  to  manage  the  affair. 

Alcibiades  at  that  time  resided  in  a  small  village  in  Phry¬ 
gia,  having  his  mistress  Timandra  with  him.  One  night  he 
dreamed  that  he  was  attired  in  his  mistress’s  habit, t  and  that 
as  she  held  him  in  her  arms,  she  dressed  his  head  and  painted 
his  face  like  a  woman’s.  Others  say,  he  dreamed  that  Maga¬ 
cus  cut  off  his  head  and  burnt  his  body;  and  we  are  told  that  it 
was  but  little  before  his  death  that  he  had  this  vision.  Be  that 
as  it  may,  those  that  were  sent  to  assassinate  him,  not  daring 

*  The  Scytala  was  sent  to  him. 

+  Alcibiades  had  dreamed  that  Timandra  attired  him  in  her  own  habit. 

Vol.  t - 3  Q 


402 


ALCIBIADES. 


to  enter  his  liot.se,  surrounded  it,  and  set  it  on  fire.  As  soon 
as  he  perceived  it,  he  got  together  large  quantifies  of  clothes 
and  hangings,  and  threw  them  upon  the  fire  to  choke  it;  then 
having  wrapt  his  robe  about  his  left  hand,  and  taking  his  sword 
in  his  right,  he  sallied  through  the  fire,  and  got  safe  out  be¬ 
fore  the  stuff  which  he  had  thrown  upon  it  could  catch  the 
flame.  At  sight  of  him  the  barbarians  dispersed,  not  one  oi 
them  daring  to  wait  for  him,  or  to  encounter  him  hand  to  hand; 
but  standing  at  a  distance,  they  pierced  him  with  their  darts 
and  arrows.  Thus  fell  Alcibiades.  The  barbarians  retiring 
after  he  was  slain,  Timandra  wrapt  the  body  in  her  own 
robes, *  and  buried  it  as  decently  and  honourably  as  her  cir¬ 
cumstances  would  allow. 

Timandra  is  said  to  have  been  mother  to  the  famous  Lais, 
commonly  called  the  Corinthian,  though  Lais  was  brought  a 
captive  from  Hyccarae,  a  little  town  in  Sicily. 

Some  writers,  though  they  agree  as  to  the  manner  of  Alci- 
biades’s  death,  yet  they  differ  about  the  cause.  They  tell  us, 
that  catastrophe  is  not  to  be  imputed  to  Pharnabazus,  or  Ly- 
sander,  or  the  Lacedaemonians;  but  that  Alcibiades  having  cor¬ 
rupted  a  young  woman  of  a  noble  family  in  that  country,  and 
keeping  her  in  his  house,  her  brothers,  incensed  at  the  injury, 
set  fire  in  the  night  to  the  house  in  which  he  lived,  and  upon 
his  breaking  through  the  flames,  killed  him  in  the  manner  we 
have  related,  t 

*  She  buried  him  in  a  town  called  Melissa;  and  we  learn  from  Athenseus 
(in  Deipnosoph.  J  that  the  monument  remained  to  his  time;  for  he  himself 
saw  it.  The  emperor  Adrian,  in  memory  of  so  great  a  man,  caused  his  sta¬ 
tue  of  Persian  marble  to  be  set  up  thereon,  and  ordered  a  bull  to  be  sacrificed 
to  him  annually. 

f  Ephorus  the  historian,  as  he  is  cited  by  Diodorus  Siculus  (lib.  xiv.)  gives 
an  account  of  his  death,  quite  different  from  those  recited  by  Plutarch.  He 
says,  that  Alcibiades  having  discovered  the  design  of  Cyrus  the  younger  to 
take  up  arms,  informed  Pharnabazus  of  it,  and  desired  that  he  might  carry 
the  news  to  the  king;  but  Pharnabazus  envying  him  that  honour,  sent  a 
confidant  of  his  own,  and  took  all  the  merit  upon  himself.  Alcibiades,  sus¬ 
pecting  the  matter,  went  to  Paphlagonia,  and  sought  to  procure  from  the  go* 
rernor  letters  of  credence  to  the  king,  which  Pharnabazus  understanding, 
*ured  people  to  murder  him.  He  was  slain  in  the  fortieth  year  of  his  age. 


THE  LIFE 


np 

CA1US  MARCIUS  CORIOLANUS. 


The  family  of  the  Marcii  afforded  Rome  many  illrstrious 
patricians.  Of  this  house  was  Ancus  Marcius,  who  was 
grandson  to  Numa  by  his  daughter;  as  were  also  Publius  and 
Quintus  Marcius,  who  supplied  Rome  with  plenty  of  the  best 
water.  Censorinus,  too,  who  was  twice  appointed  censor  by 
the  people  of  Rome,  and  who  procured  a  law,  that  no  man 
should  ever  bear  that  office  twice  afterwards,  had  the  same 
pedigree. 

Caius  Marcius,  of  whom  I  now  write,  was  brought  up  by 
his  mother,  in  her  widowhood,  and  from  him  it  appeared, 
that  the  loss  of  a  father,  though  attended  with  other  disadvan¬ 
tages,  is  no  hindrance  to  a  man’s  improving  in  virtue,  and  at¬ 
taining  to  a  distinguished  excellence;  though  bad  men  some¬ 
times  allege  it  as  an  excuse  for  their  corrupt  lives.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  same  Marcius  became  witness  to  the  truth  of 
that  maxim,  that  if  a  generous  and  noble  nature  be  not 
thoroughly  formed  by  discipline,  it  will  shoot  forth  many  bad 
qualities  along  with  the  good,  as  the  richest  soil,  if  not  culti¬ 
vated,  produces  the  rankest  weeds.  His  undaunted  courage 
and  firmness  of  mind  excited  him  to  many  great  actions,  and 
carried  him  through  them  with  honour;  but,  at  the  same  time, 
the  violence  of  his  passions,  his  spirit  of  contention,  and  ex¬ 
cessive  obstinacy,  rendered  him  untractable  and  disagreeable 
in  conversation;  so  that  those  very  persons  who  saw  with  ad¬ 
miration  his  soul  unshaken  with  pleasures,  toils,  and  riches, 
and  allowed  him  to  be  possessed  of  the  virtues  of  temperance, 
justice  and  fortitude,  yet,  in  the  councils  and  affairs  of  state, 
could  not  endure  his  imperious  temper,  and  that  savage  man¬ 
ner,  which  was  too  haughty  for  a  republic.  Indeed  there  is 
no  other  advantage  to  be  had  from  a  liberal  education,  equal 
to  that  of  polishing  and  softening  our  nature  by  reason  and  dis¬ 
cipline;  for  that  produces  an  evenness  of  behaviour,  and  ban¬ 
ishes  from  our  manners  all  extremes.  There  is  this,  however 


404 


CAIUS  MARCIUS  CORIOUANUS. 


to  be  said,  that  in  those  times  military  abilities  we  re  deemec 
by  the  Romans  the  highest  excellence;  insomuch  that  the 
term  which  they  use  for  virtue  in  general,  was  applied  by  them 
to  valour  in  particular. 

Marcius,  for  his  part,  had  a  more  than  ordinary  inclination 
for  war,  and  therefore,  from  a  child,  began  to  handle  his  wea 
pons.  As  he  thought  that  artificial  arms  availed  but  little,  un 
less  those  with  which  nature  has  supplied  us  be  well  improved, 
and  kept  ready  for  use,  he  so  prepared  himself  by  exercise  for 
every  kind  of  combat,  that  while  his  limbs  were  active  and 
nimble  enough  for  pursuing,  such  was  his  force  and  weight  in 
wrestling  and  grappling  with  the  enemy,  that  none  could 
easily  get, clear  of  him.  Those,  therefore,  that  had  any  con¬ 
test  with  him  for  the  prize  of  courage  and  valour,  though  they 
failed  of  success,  flattered  themselves  with  imputing  it  to  his 
invincible  strength,  which  nothing  could  resist  or  fatigue. 

He  made  his  first  campaign  when  he  was  very  young,  *  when 
Tarquin,  who  had  reigned  in  Rome,*  was  driven  from  the 
throne,  and  after  many  battles  fought  with  bad  success,  was 
now  venturing  all  upon  the  last  throw.  Most  of  the  people  oi 
Latium,  and  many  other  states  of  Italy,  were  now  assisting 
and  marching  towards  Rome,  to  re-establish  him,  not  through 
any  regard  they  had  for  Tarquin,  but  for  fear  and  envy  of  the 
Romans,  whose  growing  greatness  they  were  desirous  to  check. 
A  battle  ensued,  with  various  turns  of  fortune.  Marcius- dis¬ 
tinguished  himself  that  day,  in  sight  of  the  dictator;  for,  see¬ 
ing  a  Roman  pushed  down  at  a  small  distance  from  him,  he 
hastened  to  his  help  and  standing  before  him,  he  engaged  his 
adversary,  and  slew  him.  When  the  dispute  was  decided  in 
favour  of  the  Romans,  the  general  presented  Marcius,  among 
the  first,  with  an  oaken  crown. t  This  is  the  reward  which 
their  custom  assigns  to  a  man  who  saves  the  life  of  a  citizen; 
either  because  they  honoured  the  oak  for  the  sake  of  the  Ar¬ 
cadians,  whom  the  oracle  called  Jlcorn-ealers ;  or  because  an 
oaken  branch  is  most  easy  to  be  had,  be  the  scene  of  action 
where  it  will;  or  because  they  think  it  most  suitable  to  take  s 
crown  for  him  who  is  the  means  of  saving  a  citizen,  from  the 
tree  which  is  sacred  to  Jupiter,  the  protector  of  cities.  Be¬ 
sides,  the  oak  bears  more  and  fairer  fruit  than  any  tree  that 

*  In  the  first  year  of  the  seventy-first  Olympiad,  the  two  hundred  and  fif 
ty-eighth  of  Rome,  four  hundred  and  ninety-third  before  the  Christian  era. 

f  The  civic  crown  was  the  foundation  of  many  privileges.  He  who  had 
once  obtained  it,  had  a  rig'ht  to  wear  it  always.  When  he  appeared  at  the 
public  spectacles,  the  senators  rose  up  to  do  hirn  honour.  He  was  placed 
near  their  bench;  and  his  father,  and  grandfather  by  the  father’s  side,  were 
entitled  to  the  same  privileges.  Here  was  encouragement  to  merit,  which 
cost  the  public  nothing,  and  yet  \*  as  productive  of  many  great  effects. 


CA1U3  MARCIUS  CORIOLANUS. 


40c 


grows  wild,  and  is  the  strongest  of  those  that  are  cultivated  in 
plantations.  It  afforded  the  first  ages  both  food  and  drink,  by 
its  acorns  and  honey;  and  supplied  men  with  birds  and  other 
creatures  for  dainties,  as  it  produced  the  misletoe,  of  which 
birdlime  is  made.* 

Castor  and  Pollux  are  said  to  have  appeared  in  that  battle, 
and,  with  their  horses  dropping  sweat,  to  have  been  seen  soon 
after  in  the  forum ,  announcing  the  victory,  near  the  fountain, 
where  the  temple  now  stands.  Hence  also  it  is  said,  that  the 
fifteenth  of  July,t  being  the  day  on  which  that  victory  was 
gained,  is  consecrated  to  those  sons  of  Jupiter. 

It  generally  happens,  that  when  men  of  small  ambition  are 
very  early  distinguished  by  the  voice  of  fame,  their  thirst  of 
honour  is  soon  quenched,  and  their  desires  satiated;  whereas 
deep  and  solid  minds  are  improved  and  brightened  by  marks 
of  distinction  which  serve  as  a  brisk  gale,  to  drive  them  for¬ 
ward  in  the  pursuit  of  glory.  They  do  not  so  much  think 
that  they  have  received  a  reward,  as  that  they  have  given  a 
pledge,  which  would  make  them  blush  to  fall  short  of  the  ex 
pectations  of  the  public;  and  therefore  they  endeavour,  by 
their  actions,  to  exceed  them.  Marcius  had  a  soul  of  this 
frame.  He  was  always  endeavouring  to  excel  himself,  and 
meditating  some  exploit  which  might  set  him  in  a  new  light, 
adding  achievement  to  achievement,  and  spoils  to  spoils; 
therefore  the  latter  generals  under  whom  he  served  were  al¬ 
ways  striving  to  outdo  the  former  in  the  honours  they  paid 
him,  and  in  the  tokens  of  their  esteem.  The  Romans  at  that 
time  were  engaged  in  several  wars,  and  fought  many  battles, 
and  there  was  not  one  that  Marcius  returned  from  without 
some  honorary  crown,  some  ennobling  distinction.  The  end 
which  others  proposed  in  their  acts  of  valour  was  glory;  but 
ne  pursued  glory  because  the  acquisition  of  it  delighted  his 
mother.  For  when  she  was  witness  to  the  applauses  he  re¬ 
ceived,  when  she  saw  him  crowned,  when  she  embraced  him 
with  tears  of  joy,  then  it  was  that  he  reckoned  himself  at  the 
height  of  honour  and  felicity.  Epaminondas  (they  tell  us) 
had  the  same  sentiment;:,  and  declared  it  the  chief  happiness 
of  his  life,  that  his  father  and  mother  lived  to  see  the  general¬ 
ship  he  exerted,  and  the  victory  he  won,  at  Leuctra.  He  had 
Ihe  satisfaction,  indeed,  to  see  both  his  parents  rejoice  in  his 
success,  and  partake  of  his  good  fortune;  but  only  the  mother 

*  It  does  not  any  where  appear  that  the  ancients  made  use  of  the  oak  ir 
ship-building’.  How  much  nobler  an  encomium  might  an  English  histonai 
afford  that  tree  than  Plutarch  has  been  able  to  give  it! 

(  By  the  gTeat  disorder  of  the  Roman  calendar,  the  fifteenth  of  .July  the 
ft  'd  upon  the  twenty -fourth  of  our  October. 


40b 


CAIUS  MARCIUS  C0RI0LANUS. 


of  Marcias,  Volumnia,  was  living;  and  therefore  holding  him 
self  obliged  to  pay  her  all  that  duty  which  would  have  belong* 
ed  to  his  father,  over  and  above  what  was  due  to  herself,  he 
thought  he  could  never  sufficiently  express  his  tenderness  and 
respect.  He  even  married  in  compliance  with  her  desire  and 
request;  and  after  his  wife  had  borne  him  children,  still  lived 
in  the  same  house  with  his  mother. 

At  the  time  when  the  reputation  and  interest  which  his 
virtue  had  procured  him  in  Rome,  was  very  great,  the  senate, 
taking  the  part  of  the  richer  sort  of  citizens,  were  at  variance 
with  the  common  people,  who*  were  used  Lnr  their  creditors 
with  intolerable  cruelty.  Those  that  had  something  consi¬ 
derable,  were  stript  of  their  goods,  which  were  either  detained 
for  security  or  sold;  and  those  that  had  nothing  were  dragged 
into  prison,  and  there  bound  with  fetters,  though  their  bodies 
were  full  of  wounds,  and  worn  out  with  fighting  for  then 
country.  The  last  expedition  they  were  engaged  in  war 
against  the  Sabines,  on  which  occasion  their  rich  credito/f 
promised  to  treat  them  with  more  lenity;  and,  in  pursuance  01 
a  decree  of  the  senate,  M.  Valerius  the  consul,  was  guarantee 
of  that  promise.  But  when  they  had  cheerfully  undergone 
the  fatigues  of  that  war,  and  were  returned  victorious,  and  yei 
found  that  the  usurers  made  them  no  abatement,  and  that  the 
senate  pretended  to  remember  nothing  of  that  agreement,  but 
without  any  sort  of  concern  saw  them  dragged  to  prison,  and 
their  goods  seized  upon  as  formerly,  then  they  filled  the  city 
with  tumult  and  sedition. 

The  enemy,  apprised  of  these  intestine  broils,  invaded  the 
Roman  territories,  and  laid  them  waste  with  fire  and  sword. 
And  when  the  consuls  called  upon  such  as  were  able  to  bear 
arms  to  give  in  their  names,  not  a  man  took  any  notice  of  it; 
something  was  then  to  be  done,  but  the  magistrates  differed  in 
their  opinions.  Some  thought  the  poor  should  have  a  little 
indulgence,  and  that  the  extreme  rigour  of  the  law  ought  to 
be  softened.  Others  declared  absolutely  against  that  proposal, 
and  particularly  Marcius.  Not  that  he  thought  the  money  a 
matter  of  great  consequence,  but  he  considered  this  specimen 
of  the  people’s  insolence  as  an  attempt  to  subvert  the  laws, 
and  the  forerunner  of  farther  disorders,  which  it  became  a 
wise  government  timely  to  restrain  and  suppress. 

The  senate  assembled  several  times  within  the  space  of  a 
few  days,  and  debated  this  point;  but  as  they  came  to  no  con¬ 
clusion,  on  a  sudden  the  commonalty  rose,  one  and  all,  and 

*  Journo,  signifies  the  same  as  a.  So  1  Cor.  vii.  40.  <Tcxa>  f 

aoLy*  Trvvj/ud  Gm  instead  of  I  think  also  that  I  have  the  Spirit  of  Gvd, 

•hould  be  translated,  and  I  have  the  Spirit  of  God. 


CAIUS  MARC  1  US  CORIOLANUS. 


407 


encouraging  each  other,  they  lett  the  city,  and  withdrew  to 
the  hill  now  called  Sacred ,  near  the  river  Anio,  but  without 
committing  any  violence  or  other  act  of  sedition.  Only,  as 
they  went  along,  they  loudly  complained, — “That  it  was  now 
a  great  while  since  the  rich  had  driven  them  from  their  habi¬ 
tations;  that  Italy  would  any  where  supply  them  with  air  and 
water,  and  a  place  of  burial;  and  that  Rome,  if  they  staid  in  it, 
would  afford  them  no  other  privilege,  unless  it  were  such  to 
bleed  and  die  in  fighting  for  their  wealthy  oppressors/’ 

The  senate  was  then  alarmed,  and  from  the  oldest  men  of 
their  body  selected  the  most  moderate  and  popular  to  treat 
with  the  people.  At  the  head  of  them  was  Menenius  Agrippa, 
who  after  much  entreaty  addressed  to  them,  and  many  argu¬ 
ments  in  defence  of  the  senate,  concluded  his  discourse  with 
this  celebrated  fable: — “The  members  of  the  human  body 
once  mutinied  against  the  belly,  and  accused  it  of  lying  idle 
and  useless,  while  they  were  all  labouring  and  toiling  to  sa¬ 
tisfy  its  appetites;  but  the  belly  only  laughed  at  their  simpli¬ 
city,  who  knew  not  that  though  it  received  all  the  nourish¬ 
ment  into  itself,  it  prepared  and  distributed  it  again  to  all  parts 
of  the  body.  Just  so,  my  fellow-citizens,”  said  he,  “  stands 
the  case  between  the  senate  and  you.  For  their  necessary 
counsels  and  acts  of  government  are  productive  of  advantage 
to  you  all,  and  distribute  their  salutary  influence  amongst  the 
whole  people.  ” 

After  this  they  were  reconciled  to  the  senate,  having  de¬ 
manded  and  obtained  the  privilege  of  appointing  five  men*  to 
defend  their  rights  on  all  occasions.  These  are  called  tribunes 
of  the  people.  The  first  that  were  elected,  were  Junius  Bru- 
tust  and  Sicinius  Vellutus,  the  leaders  of  the  secession.  When 
the  breach  was  thus  made  up,  the  plebeians  soon  came  to  be 
enrolled  as  soldiers,  and  readily  obeyed  the  orders  of  the  con¬ 
suls  relative  to  the  war.  As  for  Marcius,  though  he  was  far 
from  being  pleased  at  the  advantage  which  the  people  had 
gained,  as  it  was  a  lessening  of  the  authority  of  the  patricians, 

*  The  tribunes  were  at  first  five  in  number;  but  a  few  years  after  five 
more  were  added.  Before  the  people  left  the  Moris  Sacer ,  they  passed  a 
law,  by  which  the  persons  of  the  tribunes  were  made  sacred.  Their  sole 
function  was  to  interpose  in  all  grievances  offered  the  plebeians  by  their  su« 
periors.  This  interposing*  was  called  intercessio ,  and  was  performed  by 
standing*  up  and  pronouncing  the  single  word  veto ,  T  forbid  it.  They  had 
their  seats  placed  at  the  door  of  the  senate,  and  were  never  admitted  into  it, 
but  when  the  consuls  called  them  to  ask  their  opinion  upon  some  affair  that 
concerned  the  interests  of  the  people. 

f  The  name  of  this  tribune  was  Lucius  Junius,  and  because  Lucius  Junius 
Brutus  was  famed  for  delivering  his  country  from  the  tyrannic  yoke  of  the 
kings,  he  also  assumed  the  surname  of  Brutus,  which  exposed  him  to  a  great 
ieal  of  ridicule. 


408 


CAIUS  MARCIUS  C0RI0LANUS. 


and  though  he  found  a  considerable  part  of  the  nobility  of  hi* 
opinion,  yet  he  exhorted  them  not  to  be  backward  wherever 
the  interest  of  their  country  was  concerned,  but  to  show 
themselves  superior  to  the  commonalty  rather  in  virtue  than 
in  power. 

Oorioli  was  the  capital  of  the  country  of  the  Volscians,  with 
whom  the  Romans  were  at  war;  and  as  it  was  besieged  by  the 
consul  Cominius,  the  rest  of  the  Volscians  were  much  alarmed, 
and  assembled  to  succour  it,  intending  to  give  the  Romans 
battle  under  the  walls,  and  to  attack  them  on  both  sides.  But 
after  Cominius  had  divided  his  forces,  and  with  part  went  to 
meet  the  Volscians  without,  who  were  marching  against  him, 
leaving  Titus  Lartius,  an  illustrious  Roman,  with  the  other 
part,  to  carry  on  the  siege,  the  inhabitants  of  Corioli  despised 
the  body  that  were  left,  and  sallied  out  to  fight  them.  The 
Romans  at  first  were  obliged  to  give  ground,  and  were  driven 
to  their  entrenchments.  But  Marcius,  with  a  small  party, 
flew  to  their  assistance,  killed  the  foremost  of  the  enemy,  and 
stopping  the  rest  in  their  career,  with  a  loud  voice  called  the 
Romans  back.  .For  he  was  (what  Cato  wanted  a  soldier  to  be) 
not  only  dreadful  for  the  thunder  of  his  arm,  but  of  voice  too, 
and  had  an  aspect  which  struck  his  adversaries  with  terror  and 
dismay.  Many  Romans  then  crowding  about  him,  and  being 
ready  to  second  him,  the  e*  emy  retired  in  confusion.  4  Nor 
was  he  satisfied  with  making  them  retire;  he  pressed  hard 
upon  their  rear,  and  pursued  them  quite  up  to  the  gates. 
There  he  perceived  that  his  men  discontinued  the  pursuit,  by 
reason  of  the  shower  of  arrows  which  fell  from  the  walls,  ana 
that  none  of  them  had  any  thoughts  of  rushing  along  with  the 
fugitives  into  the  city,  which  was  filled  with  warlike  people, 
who  were  all  under  arms;  nevertheless  he  exhorted  and  en¬ 
couraged  them  to  press  forward,  crying  out, — “That  fortune 
had  opened  the  gates  rather  to  the  victors  than  to  the  vanquish¬ 
ed.  99  But  as  few  were  willing  to  follow  him,  he  broke  through 
the  enemy,  and  pushed  into  the  town  with  the  crowd,  no  one 
at  first  daring  to  oppose  him,  or  even  to  look  him  in  the  face. 
But  when  he  cast  his  eyes  around,  and  saw  so  small  a  number 
within  the  walls,  whose  service  he  could  make  use  of  in  that 
dangerous  enterprise,  and  that  friends  and  foes  were  mixed 
together,  he  summoned  all  his  force,  and  performed  the  most 
incredible  exploits,  whether  you  consider  his  heroic  strength, 
his  amazing  agility,  or  his  bold  and  daring  spirit;  for  he  over 
powered  all  that  were  in  his  way,  forcing  some  to  seek  refuge 
in  the  farthest  corners  of  the  town,  and  others  to  give  out  and 
throw  down  their  arms;  which  afforded  Lartius  an  opportunity 
to  bring  in  the  rest  of  the  Romans  unmolested. 

The  city  thus  taken,  most  of  the  soldiers  fell  to  plundering 


CAIUS  MARCIUS  CORIOLANUS. 


409 


which  Marcius  highly  resented,  crying  out, — “That  it  was  a 
shame  for  them  to  run  about  after  plunder,  or,  under  pretence 
of  collecting  the  spoils,  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  danger*  while 
the  consul,  and  the  Romans  under  his  command,  were,  per¬ 
haps,  engaged  with  the  enemy.”  As  there  were  not  many 
that  listened  to  what  he  said,  he  put  himself  at  the  head  of 
such  as  offered  to  follow  him,  and  took  the  route  which  he 
knew  would  lead  him  to  the  consul’s  army;  sometimes  press¬ 
ing  his  small  party  to  hasten  their  marcn,  and  conjuring  them 
not  to  suffer  their  ardour  to  cool:  and  sometimes  begging  of 
the  gods  that  the  battle  might  not  be  over  before  he  arrived,  but 
that  he  might  have  his  share  in  the  glorious  toils  and  dangers 
of  his  countrymen. 

It  was  customary  with  the  Romans  of  that  age,  when  they 
were  drawn  up  in  order  of  battle,  and  ready  to  take  up  their 
shields,  and  gird  their  garments  about  them,  to  make  a  nuncu¬ 
pative  will,  naming  each  his  heir,  in  the  presence  of  three  or 
four  witnesses.  While  the  soldiers  were  thus  employed,  and 
the  enemy  in  sight,  Marcius  came  up.  Some  were  startled  at 
his  first  appearance,  covered  as  he  was  with  blood  and  sweat. 
But  when  he  ran.  cheerfully  up  to  the  consul,  took  him  by  the 
hand,  and  told  him  that  Corioli  was  taken,  the  consul  clasped 
him  to  his  heart;  and  those  who  heard  the  news  of  that  success, 
and  those  who  did  but  guess  at  it,  were  greatly  animated,  and 
with  shouts  demanded  to  be  led  on  to  the  combat.  Marcius 
inquired  of  Cominius  in  what  manner  the  enemy’s  army  was 
drawn  up,  and  where  their  best  troops  were  posted.  Being 
answered,  that  the  Antiates,  who  were  placed  in  the  centre, 
were  supposed  to  be  the  bravest  and  most  warlike: — “I  beg 
it  of  you,  then,”  said  Marcius,  “  as  a  favour,  that  you  will 
place  me  directly  opposite  to  them.”  And  the  consul,  admir 
mg  his  spirit,  readily  granted  his  request. 

When  the  battle  was  begun  w?th  the  throwing  of  spears,* 
Marcius  advanced  before  the  rest,  and  charged  the  centre  of 
the  Volscians  with  so  much  fury  that  it  was  soon  broken. 
Nevertheless,  the  wings  attempted  to  surround  him;  and  the 
consul,  alarmed  for  him,  sent  to  his  assistance  a  select  band 
which  he  had  near  his  own  person.  A  sharp  conflict  then  en¬ 
sued  about  Marcius,  and  a  great  carnage  was  quickly  made; 
hut  the  Romans  pressed  the  enemy  with  so  much  vigour,  that 
they  put  them  to  flight.  And  when  they  were  going  upon  the 
pursuit,  they  begged  of  Marcius,  now  almost  weighed  down 
with  wounds  and  fatigue,  to  retire  to  the  camp.  But  he  an¬ 
swered: — “That  it  was  not  for  conquerors  to  be  tired;”  and 
so  joined  them  in  prosecuting  the  victory.  The  whole  army 

*  -He  <T  nuctv  iufictx Ui  fc^ATU'V. 

3  H  36* 


Vo i..  x. 


410 


CAIUS  MARCIUS  CORIOLANUS. 


of  the  Volseians  was  defeated,  great  numbers  killed,  and  mam 
made  prisoners. 

Next  day,  Marcius  waiting  upon  the  consul,  and  the  army 
being  assembled,  Cominius  mounted  the  rostrum;  and  having 
in  the  first  place,  returned  due  thanks  to  the  gods  for  si^h  ex¬ 
traordinary  success,  addressed  himself  to  Marcius.  He  uegan 
with  a  detail  of  his  gallant  actions,  of  which  he  had  himself 
been  partly  an  eye-witness,  and  which  had  partly  been  related 
to  him  by  Lartius.  Then  out  of  the  great  quantity  of  treasure, 
the  many  horses  and  prisoners  they  had  taken,  he  ordered  him 
to  take  a  tenth,  before  any  distribution  was  made  to  the  rest, 
besides  making  him  a  present  of  a  fine  horse  with  noble  trap¬ 
pings,  as  a  reward  for  his  valour. 

the  army  received  this  speech  with  great  applause;  and 
Marcius,  stepping  forward,  said, — “  That  he  accepted  of  the 
horse,  and  was  happy  in  the  consul’s  approbation;  but  as  for 
the  rest,  he  considered  it  rather  as  a  pecuniary  reward  than  as 
a  mark  of  honour,  and  therefore  desired  to  be  excused,  being 
satisfied  with  his  single  share  of  the  booty.  One  favour  only 
in  particular,”  continued  he,  “  I  desire  and  beg  I  may  be  in¬ 
dulged  in.  I  have  a  friend  among  the  Volseians,  bound  with 
me  in  the  sacred  rites  of  hospitality,*  and  a  man  of  virtue  and 
honour.  He  is  now  among  the  prisoners,  and  from  easy  and 
opulent  circumstances,  reduced  to  servitude.  Of  the  many 
misfortunes  under  which  he  labours,  I  should  be  glad  to  res¬ 
cue  him  from  one,  which  is  that  of  being  sold  as  a  slave.” 

These  words  of  Marcius  were  followed  with  still  louder  ac¬ 
clamations;  his  conquering  the  temptations  of  money  being 
more  admired  than  the  valour  he  haa  exerted  in  battle.  For 
even  those  who  before  regarded  his  superior  honours  with 
envy  and  jealousy,  now  thought  him  worthy  of  great  things, 
because  he  had  greatly  declined  them,  and  were  more  struck 
with  that  virtue  which  led  him  to  despise  such  extraordinary 
advantages,  than  with  the  merit  which  claimed  them.  Indeed, 
the  right  use  of  riches  is  more  commendable  than  that  of 
arms;  and  not  to  desire  them  at  all,  more  glorious  than  to  use 
them  well. 

When  the  acclamations  were  over,  and  the  multitude  silent 
again,  Cominius  subjoined, — “You  can  not,  indeed,  my  fel¬ 
low-soldiers,  force  these  gifts  of  yours  upon  a  person  so  firmly 
resolved  to  refuse  them;  let  us  then  give  him  wdiat  is  not  in 

*  With  th :  former  translator,  we  have  rendered  it  thus,  instead  of  Host, 
which  is  indeed  the  literal  sense,  but  sounds  uncouthly  in  English,  as  it  con¬ 
veys  to  the  unlearned  reader  the  idea  of  an  innkeeper.  Among1  the  ancients, 
one  friend  called  another  of  a  dLFerent  nation  my  stranger ,  or  hospes 

mens,  my  host ,  because,  on  their  travels,  or  other  occasions,  they  entertain 
ed  each  other  at  their  houses. 


CAIUS  MARCIUS  CORIOLANUS. 


411 


ms  power  to  decline,  let  us  pass  a  vote  that  he  be  called  Co- 
riolanus,  if  his  gallant  behaviour  at  Corioli  has  not  already 
bestowed  that  name  upon  him.”  Hence  came  his  third  name 
of  Coriolanus.  By  which  it  appears,  that  Caius  was  the  pro¬ 
per  name;  that  the  second  name  Marcius,  was  that  of  the 
family;  and  that  the  third  Roman  appellative  was  a  peculiar 
note  of  distinction,  given  afterwards  on  account  of  some  par¬ 
ticular  act  of  fortune,  or  signature,  or  virtue  of  him  that  bore 
it.  Thus,  among  the  Greeks,  additional  names  were  given  to 
some  on  account  of  their  achievements,  as  Soter ,  the  preserver,  and 
Callinicus ,  the  victorious ;  to  others,  for  something  remarkable 
in  their  persons,  as  Physcon ,  the  gore-bellied ,  and  Grupus ,  the 
eagle-nosed;  or,  for  their  good  qualities,  as  Euergetes ,  the  bene¬ 
factor ,  and  Philadelphus ,  the  kind  brother;  or  their  good  fortune, 
as  Eudxmon ,  the  prosperous,  a  name  given  to  the  second  prince 
of  the  family  of  the  Batti.  Several  princes  also  have  had  sa¬ 
tirical  names  bestowed  upon  them;  Antigonus  (for  instance) 
was  called  Boson,  the  man  that  will  give  to-morrow;  and  Ptolemy 
was  styled  Lamyras,  the  buffoon .  But  appellations  of  this  last 
sort  were  used  with  greater  latitude  among  the  Romans.  One 
of  the  Mete  Hi  was  distinguished  by  the  name  of  Biadematus, 
because  he  went  a  long  time  with  a  bandage,  which  covered 
an  ulcer  he  had  in  hds  forehead;  and  another  they  called  Celer , 
because  with  surprising  celerity  he  entertained  them  with  a 
funeral  show  of  gladiators,  a  few  days  after  his  father’s  death. 
Jn  our  times,  too,  some  of  the  Romans  receive  their  names 
from  the  circumstances  of  their  birth;  as  that  of  Proculus,  if 
born  when  their  fathers  are  in  a  distant  country,  and  that  ot 
Posthumus,  if  born  after  their  father’s  death;  and  when  twdns 
come  into  the  world,  and  one  of  them  dies  at  the  birth,  the  sur¬ 
vivor  is  called  Vbpiscus.  Names  are  also  appropriated  on  ac¬ 
count  of  bodily  imperfections;  for  amongst  them  we  find  not 
only  Sylla ,  the  red ,  and  Niger,  the  black ,  but  even  Cacus,  the  blind, 
and  Claudius,  the  lame;  such  persons,  by  this  custom,  being 
wisely  taught,  not  to  consider  blindness,  or  any  other  bodily 
misfortune,  as  a  reproach  or  disgrace,  but  to  answer  to  appel¬ 
lations  of  that  kind  as  their  proper  names.  But  this  point 
might  have  been  insisted  upon  with  greater  propriety  in  ano¬ 
ther  place. 

When  the  wrar  was  over,  the  demagogues  stirred  up  another 
sedition.  And  as  there  v/as  no  new  cause  of  disquiet  or  in¬ 
jury  done  the  people,  they  made  use  of  thq  mischiefs  which 
were  the  necessary  consequence  of  the  former  troubles  and 
dissensions,  as  a  handle  against  the  patricians .  For  the  great¬ 
est  part  of  the  ground  being  left  uncultivated  and  unsown,  and 
Viie  war  not  permitting  them  to  bring  in  bread-corn  from  other 


412 


CAIUS  MARC1US  CORIOLANUS. 


countries,  there  was  an  extreme  scarcity  in  Rome.  *  The 
factious  orators  then  seeing  that  corn  was  not  brought  to  mar¬ 
ket,  and  that  if  the  market  could  be  supplied,  the  commonalty 
had  but  little  money  to  buy  with,  slanderously  asserted  that 
the  rich  had  caused  the  famine  out  of  a  spirit  of  revenge. 

At  this  junction  there  arrived  ambassadors  from  the  people 
of  Velitrae,  who  offered  to  surrender  their  city  to  the  Romans, 
and  desired  to  have  a  number  of  new  inhabitants  to  replenish 
it;  a  pestilential  distemper  having  committed  such  ravages 
there,  that  scarce  the  tenth  part  of  the  inhabitants  remained. 
The  sensible  part  of  the  Romans  thought  this  pressing  neces¬ 
sity  of  Velitrae  a  seasonable  and  advantageous  thing  for  Rome, 
as  it  would  lessen  the  scarcity  of  provisions.  They  hoped, 
moreover,  that  the  sedition  would  subside  if  the  city  were 
purged  of  the  troublesome  part  of  the  people,  who  most  readily 
took  fire  at  the  harangues  of  their  orators,  and  who  were  as 
dangerous  to  the  state  as  so  many  superfluous  and  morbid  hu¬ 
mours  are  to  the  body.  Such  as  these,  therefore,  the  consuls 
singled  out  for  the  colony,  and  pitched  upon  others  to  serve 
in  the  war  against  the  Volscians,  contriving  it  so  that  employ¬ 
ment  abroad  might  still  the  intestine  tumults,  and  believing, 
that  when  rich  and  poor,  plebeians  and  patricians,  came  to 
bear  arms  together  again,  to  be  in  the  same  camp,  and  to  meet 
the  same  dangers,  they  would  be  disposed  to  treat  each  other 
with  more  gentleness  and  candour. 

But  the  restless  tribunes,  Sicinms  and  Brutus,  opposed  both 
these  designs,  crying  out,  That  the  consuls  disguised  a  most 
inhuman  act  under  the  plausible  term  of  a  colony;  for  inhu¬ 
man  it  certainly  was,  to  throw  the  poor  citizens  into  a  devour¬ 
ing  gulf,  by  sending  them  to  a  place  where  the  air  was  infect¬ 
ed,  and  where  noisome  carcasses  lay  above  ground,  where 
also  they  would  be  at  the  disposal  of  a  strange  and  cruel  deity. 
And  as  if  it  were  not  sufficient  to  destroy  some  by  famine, 
and  to  expose  others  to  the  plague,  they  involved  them  also 
into  a  needless  war,  that  no  kind  of  calamity  might  be  want¬ 
ing  to  complete  the  ruin  of  the  city,  because  it  refused  to  con¬ 
tinue  in  slavery  to  the  rich. 

The  people,  irritated  by  these  speeches,  neither  obeyed  the 
summons  to  be  enlisted  for  tha  war,  nor  could  be  brought  to 
approve  the  order  to  go  and  people  Velitrae.  While  the  sen¬ 
ate  were  in  doubt  what  step  they  should  take,  Marcius,  now 
not  a  little  elated  by  the  honours  he  had  received,  by  the  sense 

*  The  people  withdrew  to  the  sacred  mount  soon  after  the  autumnal 
equinox,  and  tlie  reconciliation  with  the  patricians  did  not  tahe  place  until 
the  winter  solstice,  so  that  the  seed-time  was  lost;  and  the  Roman  factors, 
who  were  sent  to  bu}  corn  in  other  countries,  were  very  unsuccessful. 


CA1US  MARCIUS  CORIOLANUS. 


413 


of  his  own  great  abilities,  and  by  the  deference  that  was  paid 
him  by  the  principal  persons  in  the  state,  stood  foremost  in 
opposition  to  the  tribunes.  The  colony,  therefore,  was  sent 
out,  heavy  fines  being  set  upon  such  as  refused  to  go.  But  as 
they  declared  absolutely  against  serving  in  the  war,  Marcius 
mustered  up  his  own  clients,  and  as  many  volunteers  as  he 
could  procure,  and  with  these  made  an  inroad  into  the  terri¬ 
tories  of  the  Antiates.  There  he  found  plenty  of  corn,  and  a 
great  number  of  cattle  and  slaves,  no  part  of  which  he  reserv¬ 
ed  to  himself,  but  led  his  troops  back  to  Rome,  loaded  with 
the  rich  booty.  The  rest  of  the  citizens  then  repenting  of 
their  obstinacy,  and  envying  those  who  had  got  such  a  quan¬ 
tity  of  provisions,  looked  upon  Marcius  with  an  evil  eye,  not 
being  able  to  endure  the  increase  of  his  power  and  honour, 
which  they  considered  as  rising  on  the  ruins  of  the  people. 

Soon  after, *  Marcius  stood  for  the  consulship;  on  which 
occasion  the  commonalty  began  to  relent,  being  sensible  what 
a  shame  it  would  be  to  reject  and  affront  a  man  of  his  family 
and  virtue,  and  that  too  after  he  had  done  so  many  signal  ser¬ 
vices  to  the  public.  It  was  the  custom  for  those  who  were 
candidates  for  such  a  high  office  to  solicit  and  caress  the  peo¬ 
ple  in  the  forum ,  and,  at  those  times,  to  be  clad  in  a  loose  gown 
without  the  tunic;  whether  that  humble  dress  was  thought 
more  suitable  for  suppliants,  or  whether  it  was  for  the  conve¬ 
nience  of  showing  their  wounds,  as  so  many  tokens  of  valour; 
for  it  was  not  from  any  suspicion  the  citizens  then  had  of  bribe¬ 
ry,  that  they  required  the  candidates  to  appear  before  them 
ungirt,  and  without  any  close  garment,  when  they  came  to  beg 
their  votes;  since  it  was  much  later  than  this,  and  indeed  many 
ages  after,  that  buying  and  selling  stole  in,  and  money  came 
to  be  a  means  of  gaining  an  election.  Then,  corruption  reach 
ing  also  the  tribunals  and  the  camps,  arms  were  subdued  by 
money,  and  the  commonwealth  was  changed  into  a  monarchy. 
It  was  a  shrewd  saying,  whoever  said  it,  “That  the  man  who 
first  ruined  the  Roman  people,  was  he  who  first  gave  them 
treats  and  gratuities.”  But  this  mischief  crept  secretly  and 
gradually  in,  and  did  not  show  its  face  in  Rome  for  a  consid¬ 
erable  time.  For  we  know  not  who  it  was  that  first  bribed 
its  citizens  or  its  judges;  but  it  is  said,  that  in  Athens,  the  first 
man  who  corrupted  a  tribunal,  was  Anytas  the  son  of  Anthy- 
mion,  when  he  was  tried  for  treason  in  delivering  up  the  fort 
of  Pylos,t  at  the  latter  end  of  the  Peloponnesian  war;  a  time 


*  It  was  tVe  next  year,  being  the  third  of  the  seventy-second  Olympiad 
aur  hundred  and  eighty-eight  years  before  the  Christian  era. 

j-  The  translation  of  1  ?58,  has  the  name  of  the  fort  with  a  French  termi 
Motion,  Pt/lc ,  which  is  a  clear  proof  that  the  Greek  was  not  consulted 


414 


OAIUS  MARCIUS  CORIOLANUS. 


when  the  golden  age  reigned  in  the  Roman  courts  in  all  its 
simplicity. 

When,  therefore,  Marcius  showed  the  wounds  and  scars  he 
had  received  in  the  many  glorious  battles  he  had  fought,  for 
seventeen  years  successively,  the  people  were  struck  witli 
reverence  for  his  virtue,  and  agreed  to  choose  him  consul. 
But  when  the  day  of  election  came,  and  he  was  conducted  with 
great  pomp  into  the  Campus  Martins  by  the  senate  in  a  body, 
all  the  patricians  acting  with  more  zeal  and  vigour  than  ever 
had  been  known  on  the  like  occasion,  the  commons  then  alter- 
ed  their  minds,  and  their  kindness  was  turned  into  envy  and 
indignation.  The  malignity  of  these  passions  was  farther  as¬ 
sisted  by  the  fear  they  entertained,  that  if  a  man,  so  strongly 
attached  to  the  interests  of  the  senate,  and  so  much  respected 
by  the  nobility,  should  attain  the  consulship,  he  might  utterly 
deprive  the  people  of  their  liberty.  Influenced  by  these  con¬ 
siderations,  they  rejected  Marcius,  and  appointed  others  to 
that  office.  The  senate  took  this  extremely  ill,  considering  it 
as  an  affront  rather  intended  against  them  than  against  Mar¬ 
cius.  As  for  Marcius,  he  resented  that  treatment  highly,  in¬ 
dulging  his  irascible  passions,  upon  a  supposition  that  they 
have  someting  great  and  exalted  in  them;  and  wanting  a  due 
mixture  of  gravity  and  mildness,  which  are  the  chief  political 
virtues,  and  the  fruits  of  reason  and  education.  He  did  not 
consider,  that  the  man  who  applies  himself  to  public  business, 
and  undertakes  to  converse  with  men,  should  above  all  things, 
avoid  that  overbearing  austerity,  which  (as  Plato  says)  is  always 
the  companion  of  solitude ,  and  cultivate  in  his  heart  the  patience 
which  some  people  so  much  deride.  Marcius,  then,  being 
plain  and  artless,  but  rigid  and  inflexible  withal,  was  persuaded, 
that  to  vanquish  opposition  was  the  highest  attainment  of  a 
gallant  spirit.  He  never  dreamed  that  such  obstinacy  is  ra¬ 
ther  the  effect  of  the  weakness  and  effeminacy  of  a  distemper¬ 
ed  mind,  which  breaks  out  in  violent  passions,  like  so  many 
tumours;  and  therefore  he  went  away  in  great  disorder  and  full 
of  rancour  against  the  people.  Such  of  the  young  nobility  as 
were  most  distinguished  by  the  pride  of  birth  and  greatness  of 
spirit,  who  had  always  been  wonderfully  taken  with  Marcius, 
and  then  unluckily  happened  to  attend  him,  inflamed  his  re¬ 
sentment  by  expressing  their  own  grief  and  indignation.  For 
he  was  their  leader  in  every  expedition,  and  their  instructor 
in  the  art  of  war;  he  it  was  who  inspired  them  with  a  truly 
virtuous  emulation,  and  taught  them  to  rejoice  in  their  own 
success,  without  envying  the  exploits  of  others. 

In  the  mean  time,  a  great  quantity  of  bread-corn  was 
brought  to  Rome,  being  partly  bought  up  in  Italy,  and  partly 

present  from  Gelon  king  of  Syracuse  The  aspect  of  affair 


CAIUS  MARCIUS  CORIOLANUS. 


4Ii 


appear  ed  now  to  be  encouraging,  and  it  was  hoped  that  the 
intestine  broils  would  cease  with  the  scarcity.  The  senate, 
therefore,  being  immediately  assembled,  the  people  stood  in 
crowds  without,  waiting  for  the  issue  of  their  deliberations. 
They  expected  that  the  market  rates  for  the  corn  that  was 
bought  would  be  moderate,  and  that  a  distribution  of  that 
which  was  a  gift  would  be  made  gratis;  for  there  were  some 
who  proposed  that  the  senate  should  dispose  of  it  in  that  man¬ 
ner.  ButMarcius  stood  up,  and  severely  censured  those  that 
spoke  in  favour  of  the  commonalty,  calling  them  demagogues, 
and  traitors  to  the  nobility.  He  said; — 66  They  nourished,  to 
their  own  great  prejudice,  the  pernicious  seeds  of  boldness 
and  petulance,  which  had  been  sown  among  the  populace, 
when  they  should  rather  have  nipped  them  in  the  bud,  and  not 
have  suffered  the  plebeians  to  strengthen  themselves  with  the 
tribunitial  power.  That  the  people  were  now  become  formida¬ 
ble,  gaining  whatever  point  they  pleased,  and  not  doing  any 
one  thing  against  their  inclination;  so  that  living  in  a  sort  of 
anarchy,  they  would  no  longer  obey  the  consuls,  nor  acknow¬ 
ledge  any  superiors  but  those  whom  they  called  their  own 
magistrates.  That  the  senators  who  advised  that  distribution 
should  be  made  in  the  manner  of  the  Greeks,  whose  govern¬ 
ment  was  entirely  democratical,  were  effecting  the  ruin  of  the 
constitution,  by  encouraging  the  insolence  of  the  rabble.  For 
that  they  would  not  suppose  they  received  such  favours  for  the 
campaign  which  they  had  refused  to  make,  or  for  the  secessions 
by  which  they  had  deserted  their  country,  or  for  the  calum¬ 
nies  which  they  had  countenanced  against  the  senate.  But,” 
continued  he,  “they  will  think  that  we  yield  to  them  through 
fear,  and  grant  them  such  indulgences  by  way  of  flattery;  and 
as  they  will  expect  to  find  us  always  so  complaisant,  there  will 
be  no  end  to  their  disobedience,  no  period  to  their  turbulent 
and  seditious  practices.  It  would,  therefore,  be  perfect  mad¬ 
ness  to  take  such  a  step.  Nay,  if  we  are  wise,  we  shall  en¬ 
tirely  abolish  the  tribunes’  office,*  which  has  made  ciphers  of 
the  consuls,  and  divided  the  city  in  such  a  manner,  that  it  is 
no  longer  one  as  formerly,  but  broken  into  two  parts,  which 
will  never  knit  again,  or  cease  to  vex  and  harass  each  other 
with  all  the  evils  of  discord. ”t 
Marcius,  haranguing  to  this  purpose,  inspired  the  young 
senators  and  almost  all  the  men  of  fortune  with  his  own  cn- 


*  The  tribunes  had  lately  procured  a  law,  which  made  it  penal  to  inter 
nipt  them  when  they  were  speaking*  to  the  people. 

f  Plutarch  has  omitted  the  most  aggravating  passage  in  Coriolanus’s  speech 
wherein  he  proposed  the  holding  up  the  price  of  bread-corn  as  high  as  eveiv 
to  keep  the  people  in  dependence  and  subjection. 


416 


CAIUS  MARC1US  CORIOLANUS. 


thusiasm;  and  they  cried  out  that  he  was  the  only  man  in 
Rome  who  had  a  spirit  above  the  meanness  of  flattery  and  sub 
mission;  yet  some  of  the  aged  senators  foresaw  the  conse¬ 
quence,  and  opposed  his  measures.  In  fact,  the  issue  was  un¬ 
fortunate;  for  the  tribunes,  who  were  present,  when  they  saw 
that  Marcius  would  have  a  majority  of  voices,  ran  out  to  the 
people,  loudly  calling  upon  them  to  stand  by  their  own  magis¬ 
trates,  and  give  their  best  assistance.  An  assembly  then  was 
held  in  a  tumultuary  manner,  in  which  the  speeches  of  Mar 
cius  were  recited,  and  the  plebeians  in  their  fury  had  thoughts 
of  breaking  in  upon  the  senate.  The  tribunes  pointed  then, 
rage  against  Marcius  in  particular,  by  impeaching  him  in  form, 
and  sent  for  him  to  make  his  defence;  but  as  he  spurned  the 
messengers,  they  went  themselves,  attended  by  the  aediles,  to 
bring  him  by  force,  and  began  to  lay  hands  on  him.  Upon 
this  the  patricians  stood  up  for  him,  drove  off  the  tribunes, 
and  beat  the  aediles;  till  night  coming  on  broke  off  the  quarrel. 
Early  next  morning,  the  consuls  observing  that  the  people, 
now  extremely  incensed,  flocked  from  all  quarters  into  the 
forum ;  and  dreading  what  might  be  the  consequence  to  the 
city,  hastily  convened  the  senate,  and  moved, — “That  they 
should  consider  how  with  kind  words  and  favourable  resolu¬ 
tions  they  might  bring  the  commons  to  temper;  for  that  this 
was  not  a  time  to  display  their  ambition,  nor  would  it  be  pru¬ 
dent  to  pursue  disputes  about  the  point  of  honour  at  a  critical 
and  dangerous  juncture,  which  required  the  greatest  modera¬ 
tion  and  delicacy  of  conduct.”  As  the  majority  agreed  to  the 
motion,  they  went  out  to  confer  with  the  people,  and  used 
their  best  endeavours  to  pacify  them,  coolly  refuting  calumnies, 
and  modestly,  though  not  without  some  degree  of  sharpness, 
complaining  of  their  behaviour.  As  to  the  price  of  bread-corn, 
and  other  provisions,  they  declared  there  should  be  no  differ¬ 
ence  between  them. 

Great  part  of  the  people  were  moved  with  this  application, 
and  it  clearly  appeared,  by  their  candid  attention,  that  they 
were  ready  to  close  with  it.  Then  the  tribunes  stood  up  and 
said, — “That  since  the  senate  acted  with  moderation,  the 

Iieople  were  not  unwilling  to  make  concessions  in  their  turn 
>ut  they  insisted  that  Marcius  should  come  and  answer  to 
these  articles:  Whether  he  had  not  stirred  up  the  senate  to  the 
confounding  of  all  government,  and  to  the  destroying  of  the 
people’s  privileges?  Whether  he  had  not  refused  to  obey  their 
summons?  Whether  he  had  not  beaten  and  otherwise  maltreat¬ 
ed  the  aediles  in  the  forum;  and  by  these  means  (so  far  as  in 
him  lay)  levied  war,  and  brought  the  citizens  to  sheath  theii 
swords  in  each  other’s  bosoms?”  These  things  they  said  with 
a  design,  either  to  humble  Marcius,  by  making  him  submit  tc 


CAIUS  MARCIUS  CORIOLANUS. 


417 


entreat  the  people’s  clemency,  which  was  much  against  his 
naughty  temper;  or,  if  he  followed  his  native  bent,  to  draw 
him  to  make  the  breach  incurable.  The  latter  they  were  in 
hopes  of,  and  the  rather  because  they  knew  the  man  well. 
He  stood  as  if  he  would  have  made  his  defence,  and  the  peo¬ 
ple  waited  in  silence  for  what  he  had  to  say.  But  when,  in¬ 
stead  of  the  submissive  language  that  was  expected,  he  began 
with  an  aggravating  boldness,  and  rather  accused  the  com 
mons  than  defended  himself;  when  with  the  tone  of  his  voice 
and  the  fierceness  of  his  looks  he  expressed  an  intrepidity  bor¬ 
dering  upon  insolence  and  contempt,  they  lost  all  patience: 
and  Sicinius,  the  boldest  of  the  tribunes,  after  a  short  consul¬ 
tation  with  his  colleagues,  pronounced  openly,  that  the  tri¬ 
bunes  condemned  Marcius  to  die.  He  then  ordered  the 
aediles  to  take  him  immediately  up  to  the  top  of  the  Tarpeian 
rock,  and  throw  him  down  the  precipice.  However,  when 
they  came  to  lay  hands  on  him,  the  action  appeared  horrible 
even  to  many  of  the  plebeians.  The  patricians,  shocked  and 
astonished,  ran  with  great  outcries  to  his  assistance,  and  got 
Marcius  in  the  midst  of  them,  some  interposing  to  keep  off 
the  arrest,  and  others  stretching  out  their  hands  in  supplica¬ 
tion  to  the  multitude;  but  no  regard  was  paid  to  words  and  en 
treaties  amidst  such  disorder  and  confusion,  until  the  friends 
and  relations  of  the  tribunes,  perceiving  it  would  be  impossi¬ 
ble  to  carry  off  Marcius  and  punish  him  capitally,  without 
first  spilling  much  patrician  blood,  persuaded  them  to  alter 
the  cruel  and  unprecedented  part  of  the  sentence;  not  to  use 
violence  in  the  affair,  or  put  him  to  death  without  form  or 
trial,  but  to  refer  all  to  the  people’s  determination  in  full 
assembly. 

Sicinius,  then  a  little  mollified,  asked  the  patriciars,  What 
they  meant  by  taking  Marcius  out  of  the  hands  of  the  people, 
who  were  resolved  to  punish  him?”  To  which  they  replied 
by  another  question,  “  What  do  you  mean  by  thus  dragging 
one  of  the  worthiest  men  in  Rome,  without  trial,  to  a  barbar¬ 
ous  and  illegal  execution?”  “If  that  be  all,”  said  Sicinius, 
“you  shall  no  longer  have  a  pretence  for  your  quarrels  and 
factious  behaviour  to  the  people;  for  they  grant  you  what  3^011 
desire;  the  man  shall  have  his  trial.  And  as  for  you,  Marcius 
we  cite  you  to  appear  the  third  market-day,  and  satisfy  the 
citizens  of  your  innocence,  if  you  can;  for  then  by  their  suf¬ 
frages  your  affair  will  be  decided.”  The  patricians  were  con¬ 
tent  with  this  compromise;  and  thinking  themselves  happy  in 
carrying  Marcius  off,  they  retired 

Meanwhile,  before  the  third  market-day,  which  was  a  con 
siderable  space,  for  the  Romans  hold  their  markets  every  ninth 
day,  and  thence  call  them  Nundinz ,  war  broke  out  with  the 

Vol.  I. - 3  I  37 


418 


CAIU9  MARCIUS  CORIOLANUS 


4ntiates,*  which,  because  it  was  like  to  be  of  some  continu¬ 
ance,  gave  them  hopes  of  evading  the  judgment,  since  there 
would  be  time  for  the  people  to  become  more  tractable,  to 
moderate  their  anger,  or  perhaps  let  it  entirely  evaporate  in 
the  business  of  that  expedition.  But  they  soon  made  peace 
with  the  Antiates,  and  returned:  whereupon,  the  fears  of  the 
senate  were  renewed,  and  they  often  met  tc  consider  how 
things  might  be  so  managed,  that  they  should  neither  give  u  y 
Mareius,  nor  leave  room  for  the  tribunes  to  throw  the  people 
into  new  disorders.  On  this  occasion,  Appius  Claudius,  whr 
was  the  most  violent  adversary  the  commons  had,  declared, — 
“That  the  senate  would  betray  and  ruin  themselves,  and  ab¬ 
solutely  destroy  the  constitution,  if  they  should  once  suffer 
the  plebeians  to  assume  a  power  of  suffrage  against  the  patri¬ 
cians.”  But  the  oldest  and  most  popular  of  the  senatorst  were 
of  opinion, — “  That  the  people  instead  of  behaving  with  more 
harshness  and  severity  would  become  mild  and  gentle,  if  that 
power  were  indulged  them;  since  they  did  not  despise  the  se¬ 
nate,  but  rather  thought  themselves  despised  by  it;  and  the 
prerogative  of  judging  would  be  such  an  honour  to  them,  that 
they  would  be  perfectly  satisfied,  and  immediately  lay  aside 
all  resentment. 

Mareius  then  seein-g  the  senate  perplexed  between  their  re 
gard  for  him  and  fear  of  the  people,  asked  the  tribunes, — 
“  What  they  accused  him  of,  and  upon  what  charge  he  was  to 
be  tried  before  the  people?”  Being  told, — “That  he  would 
be  tried  for  treason  against  the  commonwealth,  in  designing 
to  set  himself  up  as  a  tyrant;”^  “  Let  me  go,  then,”  said  he, 
“to  the  people,  and  make  my  defence;  I  refuse  no  form  of 
tr  at,  noi  any  kind  of  punishment  if  I  be  found  guilty.  Only 
al  t.^e  i  .  >  other  crime  against  me,  and  do  not  impose  upon  the 
senate.  ”  The  tribunes  agreed  to  these  conditions,  and  pro 
misec  that  the  cause  should  turn  upon  this  one  point. 

Bui  the  hist  thing  they  did  after  the  people  were  assembled, 

*  Adv’cc  was  suddenly  brought  to  Rome,  that  the  people  of  Antium  had 
seized  stvi  confiscated  the  ships  belonging  to  Gelon’s  ambassadors  in  their 
return  to  Sicily,  and  had  even  imprisoned  the  ambassadors.  Hereupon  they 
took  up  arms  to  chastise  the  Antiates,  but  they  submitted  and  made  satis¬ 
faction. 

f  Valerius  was  at  the  head  of  these.  He  insisted  also  at  large  on  the 
horrible  consequences  of  a  civil  war. 

t  It  was  never  known  that  any  person,  who  affected  to  set  himself  up  ty¬ 
rant,  joined  vvitli  the  nobility  against  the  people,  but  on  the  contrary,  con¬ 
spired  with  the  people  against  the  nobility.  “Besides, ”  said  lie,  in  his  de 
fence,  “it  was  to  save  these  citizens,  that  I  have  received  the  wounds  you 
see;  let  the  tribunes  show,  if  they  can,  how  such  actions  are  consistent  with 
the  treacnerous  designs  they  lay  to  my  charge/’ 


CAIUS  MARCIUS  CORIOLANUS. 


4L9 


was  to  compel  them  to  give  their  voices  by  tribes,*  and  not  by 
centuries;  thus  contriving  that  the  meanest  and  most  seditious 
part  of  the  populace,  and  those  who  had  no  regard  to  justice 
or  honour,  might  outvote  such  as  had  borne  arms,  or  were  of 
some  fortune  and  character.  In  the  next  place,  they  passed 
by  the  charge  of  his  affecting  the  sovereignty,  because  they 
could  not  prove  it,  and,  instead  of  it  repeated  what  Marcius 
some  time  before  had  said  in  the  senate,  against  lowering  the 
price  of  corn,  and  for  abolishing  the  tribunitial  power.  And 
they  added  to  the  impeachment  a  new  article,  namely,  his 
not  bringing  into  the  public  treasury  the  spoils  he  had  taken 
in  the  country  of  the  Antiates,  but  dividing  them  among  the 
soldiers. t  This  last  accusation  is  said  to  have  discomposed 
Marcius  more  than  all  the  rest;  for  it  was  what  he  did  not  ex¬ 
pect,  and  he  could  not  immediately  think  of  an  answer  that 
would  satisfy  the  commonalty;  the  praises  he  bestowed  upon 
those  who  made  that  campaign  with  him,  serving  only  to  raise 
an  outcry  against  him  from  the  majority,  who  were  not  con¬ 
cerned  in  it.  At  last,  when  they  came  to  vote,  he  was  con¬ 
demned  by  a  majority  of  three  tribes,  and  the  penalty  to  be 
inflicted  upon  him  was  perpetual  banishment. 

After  the  sentence  was  pronounced,  the  people  were  more 
elated,  and  went  off  in  greater  transports  than  they  ever  did, 
on  account  of  a  victory  in  the  field;  the  senate,  on  the  other 
hand,  were  in  the  greatest  distress,  and  repented  that  they  had 
not  run  the  last  risk,  rather  than  suffer  the  people  to  possess 
themselves  of  so  much  power,  and  use  it  in  so  insolent  a  man¬ 
ner.  There  was  no  need  then  to  look  upon  their  dress,  or 
any  other  mark  of  distinction,  to  know  which  was  a  plebeian, 
and  which  a  patrician;  the  man  that  exulted  was  a  plebeian, 
and  the  man  that  was  dejected,  a  patrician. 

Marcius  alone  was  .inmoved  and  unhumbled.  Still  lofty  in 
his  port,  and  firm  in  his  countenance,  he  appeared  not  to  be 

*  From  the  reign  of  Servius  Tullius  the  voices  had  been  always  gathered 
by  centuries.  The  consuls  were  for  keeping  up  the  ancient  custom,  being 
well  apprised,  that  they  could  save  Coriolanus  if  the  voices  were  reckoned 
by  centuries,  of  which  the  knights  and  the  wealthiest  of  the  citizens  made 
the  majority,  being  pretty  sure  of  ninety-eight  out  of  a  hundred  and  seventy- 
three.  But  the  artful  tribunes,  alleging  that,  in  an  affair  relating  to  the 
rights  of  the  people,  every  citizen’s  vote  ought  to  have  its  due  weight, 
would  not  by  any  means  consent  to  let  the  voices  be  collected  otherwise 
than  by  tribes. 

f  “  This,”  said  the  tribune  Decius,  “  is  a  plain  proof  of  his  evil  designs, 
with  the  public  money  he  secured  to  himself  creatures  and  guards,  and  sup 
porters  of  his  intended  usurpation.  Let  him  make  it  appear  that  he  had 
power  to  dispose  of  this  booty  without  violating  the  laws.  Let  him  answer 
directly  to  this  one  article,  without  dazzling  us  with  the  splendid  show  of 
his  crown  and  scars,  or  using  any  other  arts  to  blind  the  assembly.” 


420 


CAJUS  MARCIUS  CORXOLANUS. 


sorry  for  himself,  and  to  be  the  only  one  of  the  nobility  that 
was  not.  This  air  of  fortitude  was  not,  however,  the  effect 
of  reason  or  moderation,  but  the  man  was  buoyed  up  by  an¬ 
ger  and  indignation.  And  this,  though  the  vulgar  know  it 
not,  has  its  rise  from  grief,  which,  when  it  catches  flame,  is 
turned  to  anger,  and  then  bids  adieu  to  al  feebleness  and  de¬ 
jection.  Hence,  the  angry  man  is  courageous,  just  as  he  who 
has  a  fever  is  hot,  the  mind  being  upon  the  stretch  and  in  a 
violent  agitation.  His  subsequent  behaviour  soon  showed  that 
he  was  thus  affected.  For  having  returned  to  his  own  house, 
and  embraced  his  mother  and  his  wife,  who  lamented  their  fate 
with  the  weakness  of  women,  he  exhorted  them  to  bear  it  with 
patience,  and  then  hastened  to  one  of  the  city  gates,  being 
conducted  by  the  patricians  in  a  body.  Thus  he  quitted  Rome, 
without  asking  or  receiving  aught  at  any  man’s  hands;  and 
took  with  him  only  three  or  four  clients.  He  spent  a  few 
days  in  a  solitary  manner  at  some  of  his  farms  near  the  city, 
agitated  with  a  thousand  different  thoughts,  such  as  his  anger 
suggested;  in  which  he  did  not  propose  any  advantage  to  him¬ 
self,  but  considered  oi  ly  how  he  might  satisfy  his  revenge 
against  the  Romans.  At  last  he  determined  to  spirit  up  a 
cruel  war  against  them  from  some  neighbouring  nation;  and 
for  this  purpose  to  apply  first  to  the  Volscians,  whom  he  knew 
to  be  yet  strong  both  in  men  and  money,  and  whom  he  sup¬ 
posed  to  be  rather  exasperated  and  provoked  to  farther  con¬ 
flicts,  than  absolutely  subdued. 

There  was  then  a  person  at  Antium,  Tullus  Aufidius  by 
name,*  highly  distinguished  among  the  Volscians,  by  his 
wealth,  his  valour,  and  noble  birth.  Marcius  was  very  sensi¬ 
ble,  that  of  all  the  Romans,  himself  was  the  man  whom  Tullus 
most  hated.  For,  excited  by  ambition  and  emulation,  as 
young  warriors  usually  are,  they  had  in  several  engagements 
encountered  each  other  with  menaces  and  bold  defiances,  and 
thus  had  added  personal  enmity  to  the  hatred  which  reigned 
between  the  two  nations.  But  notwithstanding  all  this,  con¬ 
sidering  the  great  generosity  of  Tullus,  and  knowing  that  he 
was  more  desirous  than  any  of  the  Volscians  of  an  opportunity 
to  return  upon  the  Romans  part  of  the  evils  his  country  had 
suffered,  he  took  a  method  which  strongly  confirms  that  s£y 
ing  of  :he  poet; — 

Stern  wrath,  how  strong*  thy  sway!  though  life’s  the  forfeit. 

Thy  purpose  must  be  gain’d. 

*  In  Bryan’s  text,  it  is  A /uapifw.  The  Bodleian  has  it  without  the  /u,  A 
But  Livy  and  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  call  him  Tullus  Attius;  and  with 
them  an  anonymous  MS.  agrees.  AJidiur,,  however,  which  is  very  near  the 
Bodleian  reading,  has  a  Latin  sound,  and  probably  was  what  Plutarch  meant 
to  write 


CAIUS  MARCIUS  CORIOLANUS.  421 

For,  putting  himself  in  such  clothes  and  habiliments  as  were 
most  likely  to  prevent  his  being  known,  like  Ulysses, 

lie  stole  into  the  hostile  town. 

It  was  evening  when  he  entered,  and  though  many  people 
met  him  in  the  streets,  not  one  of  them  knew  him.  He  passed 
therefore  on  to  the  house  of  Tullus,  where  he  got  in  undis¬ 
covered,  and  having  directly  made  up  to  the  fire-place,*  he 
seated  himself  without  saying  a  word,  covering  his  face,  and 
remaining  in  a  composed  posture.  The  people  of  the  house 
were  very  much  surprised,  yet  they  did  not  venture  to  disturb 
him,  for  there  was  something  of  dignity  both  in  his  person  and 
in  his  silence;  but  they  went  and  related  the  strange  adven¬ 
ture  to  Tullus,  who  was  then  at  supper.  Tullus,  upon  this; 
rose  from  table,  and  coming  to  Coriolanus,  asked  him,  “  Who 
he  was  and  upon  what  business  he  was  come?”  Coriolanus, 
uncovering  his  face,  paused  awhile,  and  then  thus  addressed 
him: — “  If  thou  dost  not  yet  know  me,  Tullus,  but  distrustest 
thy  own  eyes,  I  must  of  necessity  be  my  own  accuser.  I  am 
Caius  Marcius,  who  have  brought  so  many  calamities  upon  the 
Volscians,  and  bear  the  additional  name  of  Coriolanus,  which 
will  not  suffer  me  to  deny  that  imputation,  were  I  disposed  to 
it.  For  all  the  labours  and  dangers  I  have  undergone,  I  have 
no  other  reward  left,  but  that  appellation  which  distinguishes 
my  enmity  to  your  nation,  and  which  can  not  indeed  be  taken 
from  me.  Of  every  thing  else  I  am  deprived  by  the  envy  and 
outrage  of  the  people,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  cowardice  and 
treachery  of  the  magistrates,  and  those  of  my  own  order,  on 
the  other.  Thus  driven  out  an  exile,  I  am  come  a  suppliant 
to  thy  household  gods;  not  for  shelter  and  protection;  for 
why  should  I  come  hither,  if  I  were  afraid  of  death?  but  for 
vengeance  against  those  who  have  expelled  me,  which,  me 
thinks,  I  begin  to  take  by  putting  myself  into  thy  hands.  If, 
therefore,  thou  art  disposed  to  attack  the  enemy,  come  on, 
brave  Tullus,  avail  thyself  of  my  misfortunes;  let  my  personal 
distress  be  the  common  happiness  of  the  Volscians.  You  may 
be  assured,  I  shall  fight  much  better  for  you,  than  I  have 
fought  against  you,  because  they  who  know  perfectly  the 
state  of  the  enemy’s  affairs,  are  much  more  capable  of  annoy¬ 
ing  them  than  such  as  do  not  know  them.  But  if  thou  hast 
given  up  all  thoughts  of  war,  I  neither  desire  to  live,  nor  is  it 
fit  for  thee  to  preserve  a  person  who  of  old  has  been. thine 
enemy,  and  now  is  not  able  to  do  thee  any  sort  of  service.” 

*The  fire-place,  having*  the  domestic  g*ods  in  it,  was  esteemed  sacred; 
smd  therefore  all  suppliants  resorted  to  it,  as  to  an  asylum. 

3"* 


422 


CAIUS  MARCIUS  COUIOLANUS. 


Tullus,  delighted  with  this  address,  gave  him  his  hand,  and, 

(i  Rise,”  said  he,  “  Marcius,  and  take  courage.  The  present 
you  thus  make  of  yourself  is  inestimable;  and  you  may  assure 
yourself,  that  the  Volscians  will  not  be  ungrateful.”  Then 
he  entertained  him  at  his  table  with  great  kindness,  and  the 
next  and  the  following  days  they  consulted  together  about  the 
war. 

Rome  was  then  in  great  confusion,  by  reason  of  the  animo¬ 
sity  of  the  nobility  against  the  commons,  wThich  was  considera¬ 
bly  heightened  by  the  late  condemnation  of  Marcius.  Many 
prodigies  were  also  announced  by  private  persons,  as  well  a 
by  the  priests  and  diviners;  one  of  which  was  as  follows:— 
Titus  Latinus,*  a  man  of  no  high  rank,  but  of  great  modesty 
and  candour,  not  addicted  to  superstition,  much  less  to  vain 
pretences  to  what  is  extraordinary,  had  this  dream; — Jupiter, 
he  thought,  appeared  to  him,  and  ordered  him  to  tell  the  senate, 
“  That  they  had  provided  him  a  very  bad  and  ill-favoured 
leader  of  the  dance,  in  the  sacred  procession.”  *  When  he  had 
seen  this  vision,  he  said,  he  paid  but  little  regard  to  it  at  first. 
It  was  presented  a  second  and  a  third  time,  and  he  neglected 
it;  whereupon  he  had  the  unhappiness  to  see  his  son  sicken 
and  die,  and  he  himself  was  suddenly  struck  in  such  a  man¬ 
ner  as  to  lose  the  use  of  his  limbs.  These  particulars  he  rela¬ 
ted  in  the  senate-house,  being  carried  on  his  couch  lor  that 
purpose.  And  he  had  no  sooner  made  an  end,  than  he  perceiv¬ 
ed,  as  they  teil  us,  his  strength  return,  and  rose  up,  and  walk¬ 
ed  home  without  help. 

The  senate  were  much  surprised,  and  made  a  strict  inquiry^ 
into  the  affair,  the  result  of  which  was,  that  a  certain  house¬ 
holder  had  delivered  up  one  of  his  slaves,  who  had  been  guilty 
of  some  offence,  to  his  other  servants,  with  an  order  to  whip 
him  through  the  market-place,  and  then  put  him  to  death. 
While  they  were  executing  this  order,  and  scourging  the 
wretch,  who  writhed  himself,  through  the  violence  of  pain,  in¬ 
to  various  postures, t  the  procession  happened  to  come  up. 
Many  of  the  people  that  composed  it  were  fired  with  indigna¬ 
tion,  for  the  sight  was  excessively  disagreeable,  and  shocking 
to  humanity;  yet  nobody  gave  him  the  least  assistance;  only 
curses  and  execrations  were  vented  against  the  man  who  pun¬ 
ished  with  so  much  cruelty.  For  in  those  times  they  treated 
their  slaves  with  great  moderation,  and  this  was  natural,  be¬ 
cause  they  worked  and  even  eat  with  them.  It  was  deemed 

*  Livy  calls  him  Titus  Atinius. 

■j*  Accoiding  to  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus,  the  master  had  given  orders 
that  the  slave  should  be  punished  at  the  head  of  the  procession,  to  make  the 
ignominy  the  more  notorious;  which  was  a  still  greater  affront  to  the  deitv 
In  whose  honour  the  procession  was  led  up. 


CAIUS  MARCIUS  CORIOLANUS. 


423 


a  great  punishment  for  a  slave  who  had  committed  a  fault  to 
take  up  that  piece  of  wood  with  which  they  supported  the 
thill  of  a  wagon,  and  carry  it  round  the  neighbourhood.  For 
lie  that  was  thus  exposed  to  the  derision  of  the  family,  and 
other  inhabitants  of  the  place,  entirely  lost  his  credit,  and  was 
styled  furcifer;  the  Romans  calling  that  piece  of  timber  furca , 
which  the  Greeks  call  hypostates ,  that  is,  a  supporter . 

When  Latinus  had  given  the  senate  an  account  of  his  dream, 
and  they  doubted  who  this  ill-favoured  and  bad  leader  of  the  dance 
might  be,  the  excessive  severity  of  the  punishment  put  some 
of  them  in  mind  of  the  slave  who  was  whipped  through  the 
market-place,  and  afterwards  put  to  death.  All  the  priests 
agreeing  that  he  must  be  the  person  meant,  his  master  had  a 
heavy  fine  laid  upon  him,  and  the  procession  and  games  were 
exhibited  anew,  in  honour  of  Jupiter.  Hence  it  appears,  that 
Numa’s  religious  institutions  in  general  are  very  wise,  and  that 
this  in  particular  is  highly  conducive  to  the  purposes  of  piety, 
namely,  that  when  the  magistrates  or  priests  are  employed  in 
any  sacred  ceremony,  a  herald  goes  before,  and  proclaims 
aloud,  Hoc  age ,  i.  e.  be  attentive  to  this ;  hereby  commanding 
every  body  to  regard  the  solemn  acts  of  religion,  and  not  to 
suffer  any  business  or  avocation  to  intervene  and  disturb  them; 
as  well  knowing  that  men’s  attention,  especially  in  what  con¬ 
cerns  the  worship  of  the  gods,  is  seldom  fixed  but  by  a  sort 
of  violence  and  constraint. 

Rut  it  is  not  omy  in  so  important  a  case,  that  tne  Romans 
begin  anew  their  sacrifices,  their  processions,  and  games:  they 
do  it  for  very  small  matters.  If  one  of  the  horses  that  draw 
the  chariots,  called  Tensse ,  in  which  are  placed  the  images  of 
the  gods,  happened  to  stumble,  or  if  the  charioteer  took  the 
reigns  in  his  left  hand,  the  whole  procession  was  to  be  repeat¬ 
ed.  And  in  later  ages  they  have  set  about  one  sacrifice  thirty 
several  times,  on  account  of  some  defect  or  inauspicious  ap¬ 
pearance  in  it.  Such  reverence  have  the  Romans  paid  to  the 
Supreme  Being. 

Meantime  Marcius  and  Tullus  held  secret  conferences  with 
the  principal  Volscians,  in  which  they  exhorted  them  to  be 
gin  the  war,  while  Rome  was  torn  in  pieces  with  factious  dis¬ 
putes;  but  a  sense  of  honour  restrained  some  of  them  from 
breaking  the  truce,  which  was  concluded  for  two  years.  The 
Romans,  however,  furnished  them  with  a  pretence  for  it,  liar 
ing,  through  some  suspicion  or  false  suggestion,  caused  pro 
clamation  to  be  made  at  one  of  the  public  shows  or  games,  that 
all  the  Volscians  should  quit  the  town  before  sun-set.  Some 
say,  it  was  a  stratagem  contrived  by  Marcius,  who  suborned 
a  person  to  go  to  the  consuls,  and  accuse  the  Volscians  of  a 
design  to  attack  the  Romans  during  the  games,  and  to  set  fire 


424 


CA1US  MARCIUS  COIJOLANUS. 


to  the  city.  This  proclamation  exasperated  the  whole  V olscivn 
nation  against  the  Romans,  and  Tullus,  greatly  aggravating  the 
affront,*  at  last  persuaded  them  to  send  to  Rome,  to  demand 
that  the  lands  and  cities  which  had  been  taken  from  them  in 
the  war  should  be  restored.  The  senate  having  heard  what 
the  ambassadors  had  to  say,  answered  with  indignation,  “  That 
the  Volscians  might  be  the  first  to  take  up  arms,  but  the  Ro¬ 
mans  would  be  the  last  to  lay  them  down.”  Hereupon  Tul¬ 
lus  summoned  a  general  assembly  of  his  countrymen,  whom 
he  advised  to  send  for  Marcius,  and,  forgetting  all  past  injuries, 
to  rest  satisfied,  that  the  service  he  would  do  them,  now  their 
ally,  would  greatly  exceed  all  the  damage  they  had  received 
from  him  while  their  enemy. 

Marcius  accordingly  was  called  in,  and  made  an  oration  to 
the  people;  who  found  that  he  knew  how  to  speak  as  well  as 
fight,  and  that  he  excelled  in  capacity  as  well  as  courage,  and 
therefore  they  joined  him  in  commission  with  Tullus.  As  he 
was  afraid  that  the  Volscians  would  spend  much  time  in  pre 

E>arations,  and  so  lose  a  favourable  opportunity  for  action,  he 
eft  it  to  the  magistrates  and  other  principal  persons  in  An- 
tium  to  provide  troops  and  whatever  else  was  necessary,  while 
he,  without  making  any  set  levies,  took  a  number  of  volun¬ 
teers,  and  with  them  overran  the  Roman  territories,  before 
any  body  in  Rome  could  expect  it.  There  he  made  so  much 
booty  that  the  Volscians  found  it  difficult  to  carry  it  off,  and 
consume  it  in  the  camp.  But  the  great  quantity  of  provisions 
he  collected,  and  the  damage  he  did  the  enemy  by  committing 
such  spoil,  was  the  least  part  of  the  service  in  this  expedition. 
The  great  point  he  had  in  view  in  the  whole  matter,  was  to 
increase  the  people’s  suspicions  of  the  nobility.  For  while  he 
ravaged  the  whole  country,  he  was  very  attentive  to  spare  the 
lands  of  the  patricians,  and  to  see  that  nothing  should  be  car¬ 
ried  off  from  them.  Hence  the  ill  opinion  the  two  parties  had 
of  each  other;  and  consequently  the  troubles  grew  greater  than 
ever;  the  patricians  accusing  the  plebeians  of  unjustly  driving 
out  one  of  the  bravest  men  in  Rome,  and  the  plebeians  re¬ 
proaching  them  with  bringing  Marcius  upon  them  to  indulge 
their  revenge,  and  with  sitting  secure  spectators  of  what  others 
suffered  by  the  war,  while  the  war  itself  was  a  guard  to  their 
lands  and  subsistence.  Marcius  having  thus  effected  his  pur¬ 
pose,  and  inspired  the  Volscians  with  courage,  not  only  to 

*  “  We  alone,”  said  he,  “  of  all  the  different  nations  now  in  Rome,  are 
not  thought  worthy  to  see  the  games.  We  alone,  like  the  profanest  wretches 
wirt  outlaws,  are  driven  from  a  public  festival.  Go,  and  tell  in  all  your  cities 
And  villages  the  distinguishing  mark  the  Romans  have  put  upon  us.” 


CAIUS  MARCIUS  CORIOLANUS.  42D 

meet,  but  even  to  despise  the  enemy,  drew  off  his  party  with¬ 
out  being  molested. 

The  v  olscian  forces  assembled  with  great  expedition  and 
alacrity;  and  they  appeared  so  considerable,  that  it  was 
thought  proper  to  leave  part  to  garrison  their  towns,  while  the 
rest  marched  against  the  Romans.  Coriolanus  leaving  it  in 
the  option  of  Tullus  which  corps  he  would  command,  Tullus 
observed,  that  as  his  colleague  was  not  at  all  inferior  to  him¬ 
self  in  valour,  and  had  hitherto  fought  with  better  success,  he 
thought  it  most  adviseable  for  him  to  lead  the  army  into  the 
field,  while  himself  stayed  behind  to  provide  for  the  defence 
of  the  towns,  and  to  supply  the  troops  that  made  the  campaign 
with  every  thing  necessary.  * 

Marcius,  strengthened  still  more  by  this  division  of  the 
command,  marched  first  against  Circeii,t  a  Roman  colony; 
and  as  it  surrendered  without  resistance,  he  would  not  suffer 
it  to  be  plundered.  After  this,  he  laid  waste  the  territories  of 
the  Latins,  expecting  that  the  Romans  would  hazard  a  battle 
for  the  Latins,  who  were  their  allies,  and  by  frequent  messen¬ 
gers  called  upon  them  for  assistance.  But  the  commons  of 
Rome  showed  no  alacrity  in  the  affair,  and  the  consuls,  whose 
office  was  almost  expired,  were  not  willing  to  run  such  a  risk, 
and  therefore  rejected  the  request  of  the  Latins.  Marcius 
then  turned  his  arms  against  Tolerium,  Labici,  Pedum,  and 
Bola,  cities  of  Latium,  which  he  took  by  assault;  and  because 
they  made  resistance,  sold  the  inhabitants  as  slaves,  and  plun¬ 
dered  their  houses.  At  the  same  time,  he  took  particular  care 
of  such  as  voluntarily  came  over  to  him;  and  that  they  might 
not  sustain  any  damage  against  his  will,  he  always  encamped 
at  the  greatest  distance  he  could,  and  would  not  even  touch 
upon  their  lands  if  he  could  avoid  it. 

Afterwards  he  took  Bollae,  which  is  little  more  than  twelve 
miles  from  Rome,  where  he  put  to  the  sword  almost  all  that 
were  of  age  to  bear  arms,  and  got  much  plunder.  Tne  rest 
of  the  Volscians,  who  were  left  as  a  safeguard  to  the  towns, 
had  not  patience  to  remain  at  home  any  longer,  but  ran  with 
their  weapons  in  their  hands  to  Marcius,  declaring  that  they 
knew  no  other  leader  or  general  but  him.  His  name  and  his 


*  It  would  have  been  very  imprudent  in  Tullus  to  have  left  Coriolanus, 
who  had  been  an  enemy,  and  now  might  possibly  be  only  a  pretended  friend, 
at  the  head  of  an  army,  in  the  bowels  of  L  s  country,  while  lie  was  marching 
at  the  head  of  another  against  Rome. 

\  For  the  right  terminations  of  this  and  other  towns  soon  after  mentioned, 
see  Livy ,  book  ii.  c.  39.  Plutarch  calif  the  town  Circaeum.  His  error  is 
much  greater,  when,  a  little  below,  he  writes  Claelix  instead  of  Cluilise. 
Sometimes,  too,  the  former  translator  make  a  mistake,  where  Plutarch  had 
made  none. 

Vol  I. - 3  K 


426 


CAIUS  MARCIUS  CORIOLANUS. 


valour  were  renowned  through  Italy.  All  were  astonished 
that  one  man’s  changing  sides  could  make  so  prodigious  an 
alteration  in  affairs. 

Nevertheless,  there  was  nothing  but  disorder  at  Rome. 
The  Romans  refused  to  fight,  and  passed  their  time  in  cabals, 
seditious  speeches,  and  mutual  complaints;  until  news  was 
brought  that  Coriolanus  had  laid  siege  to  Lavinium,  where 
the  holy  symbols  of  the  gods  of  their  fathers  were  placed,  and 
from  whence  they  derived  their  original,  that  being  the  first 
city  which  Aeneas  built.  A  wonderful  and  universal  change 
of  opinion  then  appeared  among  the  people,  and  a  very  strange 
and  absurd  one  among  the  patricians.  The  people  were  de¬ 
sirous  to  annul  the  sentence  against  Marcius,  and  to  recall  him 
to  Rome,  but  the  senate  being  assembled  to  deliberate  on  that 

Eoint,  finally  rejected  the  proposition;  either  out  of  a  perverse 
umour  of  opposing  whatever  measure  the  people  espoused, 
or  perhaps  unwilling  that  Coriolanus  should  owe  his  return  to 
the  favour  of  the  people;  or  else  having  conceived  some  re 
sentment  against  him  for  harassing  and  distressing  all  the  Ro¬ 
mans,  when  he  had  been  injured  only  by  a  part,  and  for  show¬ 
ing  himself  an  enemy  to  his  country,  in  •which  he  knew  the 
most  respectable  body  had  both  sympathized  with  him,  and 
shared  in  his  ill  treatment.  This  resolution  being  announced 
to  the  commons,*  it  was  not  in  their  power  to  proceed  to  vote 
or  to  pass  a  bill;  for  a  previous  decree  of  the  senate  was  ne¬ 
cessary. 

At  this  news  Coriolanus  was  still  more  exasperated,  so  that 
quitting  the  siege  of  Lavinium, t  he  marched  in  great  fury  to¬ 
wards  Rome,  and  encamped  only  five  miles  from  it,  at  the 
Fossze  CluMse .  The  sight  of  him  caused  great  terror  and  con 
fusion,  but  for  the  present  it  appeased  the  sedition;  for  neither 
magistrate  nor  senator  durst  any  longer  oppose  the  people’s 
desire  to  recall  him.  When  they  saw  the  women  running  up 
and  down  the  streets,  and  the  supplications  and  tears  of  the 
aged  men  at  the  altars  of  the  gods,  when  all  courage  and  spirit 
were  gone,  and  salutary  councils  were  no  more;  then  they 
acknowledged  that  the  people  were  right  in  endeavouring  to 
be  reconciled  to  Coriolanus,  and  that  the  senate  were  under  a 
great  mistake,  in  beginning  to  indulge  the  passions  of  anger 
and  revenge,  at  a  time  when  they  should  have  renounced  them. 
All,  therefore,  agreed  to  send  ambassadors  to  Coriolanus  tc 

*  Perhaps  the  senate  now  refused  to  comply  with  the  demands  of  the  peo¬ 
ple,  either  to  clear  themselves  from  the  suspicion  of  maintaining  a  corres¬ 
pondence  with  Coriolanus,  or  possibly  out  of  that  magnanimity  which  made 
the  Romans  averse  to  peace,  when  they  were  attended  with  bad  success 
111  war. 

•j-  He  left  a  body  of  troops  to  continue  the  blockade. 


oAIUS  MARCIUS  COMOLANUS. 


42? 


offer  him  liberty  to  return,  and  to  entreat  him  to  put  an  end  to 
the  war.  Those  that  went  on  the  part  of  the  senate,  being 
ail  either  relations  or  friends  of  Coriolanus,  expected  at  the 
first  interview  much  kindness  from  a  man  who  was  thus  con 
nected  with  them.  But  it  happened  quite  otherwise;  for  be¬ 
ing  conducted  through  the  Volscian  ranks,  they  found  him 
seated  in  council  with  a  number  of  great  officers,  and  with  an 
insufferable  appearance  of  pomp  and  severity.  He  bade  them 
then  declare  their  business,  which  they  did  in  a  very  modest 
and  humble  manner,  as  became  the  state  of  their  affairs. 

When  they  had  made  an  end  of  speaking,  he  answered  them 
with  much  bitterness  and  high  resentment  of  the  injuries  done 
him;  and,  as  general  of  the  Volscians,  he  insisted,  “  That  the 
Romans  should  restore  all  the  cities  and  lands  which  they  had 
taken  in  the  former  wars;  and  that  they  should  grant  by  de¬ 
cree  the  freedom  of  the  city  to  the  Volscians,  as  they  had  done 
to  the  Latins:  for  that  no  lasting  peace  could  be  made  between 
the  two  nations,  but  upon  these  just  and  equal  conditions.” — 
He  gave  them  thirty  days  to  consider  of  them;  and  having 
dismissed  the  ambassadors,  he  immediately  retired  from  the 
Roman  territories. 

Several  among  the  Yolscians,  who  for  a  long  time  had  en 
vied  his  reputation,  and  being  uneasy  at  the  interest  he  had 
with  the  people,  availed  themselves  of  this  circumstance  to  ca¬ 
lumniate  and  reproach  him.  Tullus  himself  was  of  the  num¬ 
ber.  Not  that  he  had  received  any  particular  injury  from  Co 
riolanus:  but  he  was  led  away  by  a  passion  too  natural  to  man. 
It  gave  him  pain  to  find  his  own  glory  obscured,  and  himselt 
entirely  neglected  by  the  Yolscians,  who  looked  upon  Corio 
lanus  as  their  supreme  head,  and  thought  that  others  might 
well  be  satisfied  with  that  portion  of  power  and  authority 
which  he  thought  proper  to  allow  them.  Hence,  secret  hints 
were  first  given,  and  in  their  private  cabals  his  enemies  ex 
pressed  their  dissatisfaction,  giving  the  name  of  treason  to  his 
retreat.  F or  though  he  had  not  betrayed  their  cities  or  armies, 
yet  the)'  said  he  had  traitorously  given  up  time,  by  which  these 
and  all  other  things  are  both  won  and  lost.  He  had  allowed 
them  a  respite  of  no  less  than  thirty  days,*  knowing  their 

*  So  Dacier  paraphrases  /xufyvdu;,  a’P  tv  iKarrovt  xpovoo  xa/u&aviiv  pma-fa c,\at| 
and  his  paraphrase  seems  nearest  the  sound  of  the  Greek.  But  the  text  is 
manifestly  corrupted,  and  it  is  not  easy  to  restore  the  true  reading*.  Per¬ 
haps  the  Latin  translation,  as  published  by  Bryon,  has  the  sense  intended 
by  Plutarch.  It  is  to  this  effect,  when  greater  changes,  than  were  necessary 
in  this  case,  might  happen  in  a  less  space  of  time.  But  to  justify  that  trans¬ 
lation  the  Greek  should  run  as  folbws:  wt^ovete  v  lAatTTow  nlWot** 

(sd.icet  ntxt/uos)  \ctjuj2civuv  p.irdLQoKa.s. 


428 


CAIUS  MARCIUS  CORIOLANUS. 


affairs  to  be  so  embarrassed  that  they  wanted  such  a  space  to 
re-establish  them. 

Coriolanus,  however,  did  not  spend  those  thirty  days  idly 
He  harassed  the  enemy’s  allies,*  laid  waste  Iheir  lands,  and 
took  seven  great  and  populous  cities  in  that  interval.  The 
Romans  did  not  venture  to  send  them  any  succours.  They 
were  as  spiritless,  and  as  little  disposed  to  the  war,  as  if  their 
bodies  had  been  relaxed  and  benumbed  with  the  palsy. 

When  the  term  was  expired,  and  Coriolanus  returned  with 
all  his  forces,  they  sent  a  second  embassy,  “  To  entreat  him  to 
lay  aside  his  resentment,  to  draw  off  the  Volscians  from  their 
territories,  and  then  to  pioceed  as  should  seem  most  conducive 
to  the  advantage  of  both  nations.  For  that  the  Romans  would 
not  give  up  any  thing  through  fear;  but  if  he  thought  it  rea¬ 
sonable  that  the  Volscians  should  be  indulged  in  some  particu¬ 
lar  points,  they  would  be  duly  considered  if  they  laid  down 
their  arms.”  Coriolanus  replied,  “That  as  general  of  the 
Volscians,  he  would  give  them  no  answer;  but  as  one  who 
was  yet  a  citizen  of  Rome,  he  would  advise  and  exhort  them 
to  entertain  humble  thoughts,  and  to  come  within  three  days 
with  a  ratification  of  the  just  conditions  he  had  proposed.  At 
the  same  time  he  assured*  them,  that  if  their  resolutions  should 
be  of  a  different  nature,  it  would  not  be  safe  for  them  to  come 
any  more  into  his  camp  with  empty  words.” 

The  senate  having  heard  the  report  of  the  ambassadors, 
considered  the  commonwealth  as  ready  to  sink  in  the  waves 
of  a  dreadful  tempest,  and  therefore  cast  the  last,  the  sacred 
anchor ,  as  it  is  called.  They  ordered  all  the  priests  of  the 
gods,  the  ministers  and  guardians  of  the  mysteries,  and  all 
that,  by  the  ancient  usage  of  their  country,  practised  divina¬ 
tion  by  the  flight  of  birds,  to  go  to  Coriolanus,  in  their  robes, 
with  the  ensigns  which  they  bear  in  the  duties  of  their  office, 
and  exert  their  utmost  endeavours  to  persuade  him  to  desist 
from  the  war,  and  then  to  treat  with  his  countrymen  of  arti¬ 
cles  of  peace  for  the  Volscians  When  they  came,  he  did  in¬ 
deed  vouchsafe  to  admit  them  into  the  camp,  but  showed  them 
no  other  favour,  nor  gave  them  a  milder  answer  than  the 
others  had  received:  “  He  bade  them,”  in  short,  “  either  ac- 
cept  the  former  proposals,  or  prepare  for  war.  ” 

When  the  priests  returned,  the  Romans  resolved  to  keep 
close  within  the  city  and  to  defend  the  walls;  intending  onl} 
to  repulse  the  enemy,  should  he  attack  them,  and  placing  their 
chief  hopes  on  the  accidents  of  time  and  fortune;  for  they 

*  By  this  he  prevented  the  allies  of  the  Romans  ftom  assisting  them,  and 
guarded  against  the  charge  of  treachery,  which  some  of  the  Volscians  were 
ready  to  bring  against  him. 


CAIUS  MARC1US  UORIOLANUS. 


429 


knew  of  no  resource  within  themselves:  the  city  was  full  of 
trouble  and  confusion,  terror  and  unhappy  presages.  At  last 
something  happened  similar  to  what  is  often  mentioned  by 
Homer,  but  wThich  men,  in  general,  are  little  inclined  to  be¬ 
lieve.  For  when,  on  occasion  of  any  great  and  uncommon 
event;  he  says, 

Pallas  inspir’d  that  counsel. 

And  again, 

But  some  immortal  power  who  rules  the  mind. 

Chang’d  their  resolves: 

And  elsewhere, 

The  thought  spontaneous  rising, 

Or  by  some  god  inspir’d - 

They  despise  the  poet,  as  if,  for  the  sake  of  absurd  notions  and 
incredible  fables,  he  endeavoured  to  take  away  our  liberty  of 
will.  A  thing  which  Homer  never  dreamed  of;  for  whatever 
happens  in  the  ordinary  course  of  things,  and  is  the  effect 
of  reason  and  consideration,  he  often  ascribes  to  our  own 
powers;  as, 


- My  own  great  mind 

1  then  consulted; 

And  in  another  place, 

Achilles  heard  with  grief;  and  various  thoughts 
Perplex’d  his  mighty  mind; 

Once  more, 

- But  she  in  vain 

Tempted  Bellerophon.  The  noble  youth 
With  wisdom’s  shield  was  arm’d. 

And  in  extraordinary  and  wonderful  actions,  which  requires 
some  supernatural  impulse  and  enthusiastic  movement,  he 
never  introduces  the  Deity  as  depriving  man  of  freedom  of 
will,  but  as  moving  the  will.  He  does  not  represent  the 
heavenly  power  as  producing  the  resolution,  but  ideas  which 
lead  to  the  resolution.  The  act,  therefore,  is  by  no  means  in¬ 
voluntary,  since  occasion  only  is  given  to  free  operations,  and 
confidence  and  good  hope  are  superadded;  for  either  the  Su¬ 
preme  Being  must  be  excluded  from  all  casualty  and  influence 
upon  our  actions,  or  it  must  be  confessed  that  this  is  the  only 
way  in  which  he  assists  men,  and  co-operates  with  them;  since 

38 


430 


CAfUS  MAKC1US  CORIOLANUS. 


it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  he  fashions  our  corporeal  organs, 
or  directs  the  motions  of  our  hands  and  feet  to  the  purposes  he 
designs,  but  that,  by  certain  motives  and  ideas  which  he  sug¬ 
gests,  he  either  excites  the  active  powers  of  the  will,  or  else 
restrains  them,  * 

The  Roman  women  wTere  then  dispersed  in  the  several 
temples,  but  the  greatest  part,  and  the  most  illustrious  of  the 
matrons,  made  their  supplications  at  the  altar  of  Jupiter  Capi 
tolinus.  Among  the  last  was  Valeria,  the  sister  of  the  greaU 
Publiccla*  a  person  who  had  done  the  Romans  the  most  con 
siderabie  services,  both  in  peace  and  war.  Publico] a  died 
some  time  before,  as  we  have  related  in  his  life;  but  Valeria 
still  lived  in  the  greatest  esteem;  for  her  life  did  honour  to 
her  high  birth.  This  woman  discerning,  by  some  divine  im¬ 
pulse,  what  would  be  the  best  expedient,  rose  and  called  upon 
the  other  matrons  to  attend  her  to  the  house  of  Volumnia,t  the 
mother  of  Coriolanus.  When  she  entered,  and  found  her  sit¬ 
ting  with  her  daughter-in-law  and  with  the  children  of  Corio- 
lanus  on  her  lap,  she  approached  her,  with  her  female  com¬ 
panions,  and  spoke  to  this  effect: — uWe  address  ourselves  to 
you,  Volumnia  and  Vergilia,  as  women  to  women,  without 
any  decree  of  the  senate,  or  order  of  the  consuls.  But  our  god, 
we  believe,  lending  a  merciful  ear  to  our  prayers,  put  it  in 
our  minds  to  apply  to  you,  and  to  entreat  you  to  do  a  thing 
that  will  not  only  be  salutary  to  us  and  the  other  citizens,  but 
more  glorious  for  you,  if  you  hearken  to  us,  than  the  reducing 
their  fathers  and  husbands  from  mortal  enmity  to  peace  and 
friendship,  was  to  the  daughters  of  the  Sabines.  Come,  then, 
go  along  with  us  to  Coriolanus;  join  your  instances  to  ours;  and 
give  a  true  and  honourable  testimony  to  your  country,  that 
though  she  has  received  the  greatest  injuries  from  him,  yet 
she  has  neither  done  nor  resolved  upon  any  thing  against  you 
in  her  anger,  but  restores  you  safe  into  his  hands,  though  per¬ 
haps  she  may  not  obtain  any  better  terms  to  herself  on  that 
account.” 

When  Valeria  had  thus  spoken,  the  rest  of  the  women  join¬ 
ed  her  request.  Volumnia  gave  them  this  answer:— “  Beside 
the  share  which  we  have  in  the  general  calamity,  we  are,  my 
friends,  in  particular  very  unhappy;  since  Marcius  is  lost  to 
us,  his  glory  obscured,  and  his  virtue  gone;  since  we  behold 
him  surrounded  by  the  arms  of  the  enemies  of  his  country,  not 
as  their  prisoner,  but  their  commander.  But  it  is  still  a  greater 

*  Plutarch  represents  the  divine  assistance  as  a  moral  influence ,  prevailing 
(if  it  does  prevail)  by  rational  motives;  and  the  best  Christian  divines  de¬ 
scribe  it  in  the  same  manner. 

+  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  and  Livv  call  his  mother  Veturia  ami  his 
wife  Volumnia 


CA1US  MARCIUS  CORIOLANUS. 


43  i 


misfortune  to  us,  if  our  country  is  become  so  weak,  as  tc 
have  need  to  repose  her  hopes  upon  us;  for  I  know  not  whether 
he  will  have  any  regard  for  us,  since  he  has  had  none  for  his 
country,  which  he  used  to  prefer  to  his  mother,  to  his  Wife, 
and  children.  Take  us,  however,  and  make  what  use  of  us 
you  please.  Lead  us  to  him.  If  we  can  do  nothing  else,  we 
can  expire  at  his  feet  in  supplicating  for  Rome.” 

She  then  took  the  children  and  Vergilia  with  her,*  and  went 
with  the  other  matrons  to  the  Volscian  camp.  The  sight  of 
them  produced  even  in  the  enemy,  compassion  and  a  reveren¬ 
tial  silence.  Coriolanus,  who  then  happened  to  be  seated 
upon  the  tribunal  with  his  principal  officers,  seeing  the  women 
approach,  was  greatly  agitated  and  surprised.  Nevertheless, 
he  endeavoured  to  retain  his  wonted  sternness  and  inexorable 
temper,  though  he  perceived  that  his  wife  wTas  at  the  head  of 
them;  but,  unable  to  resist  the  emotions  of  affection,  he  could 
not  suffer  them  to  address  him  as  he  sat.  He  descended  from 
the  tribunal,  and  ran  to  meet  them.  First  he  embraced  his 
mother  for  a  considerable  time,  and  afterwards  his  wife  and 
children,  neither  refraining  from  tears,  nor  any  other  instance 
of  natural  tenderness. 

When  he  had  sufficiently  indulged  his  passion,  and  perceiv¬ 
ed  that  his  mother  wanted  to  speak,  he  called  the  Volscian 
counsellors  to  him,  and  Volumnia  expressed  herself  to  this 

[lurpose; — “  You  see,  my  son,  by  our  attire  and  miserable 
ooks,  and  therefore  I  may  spare  myself  the  trouble  of  declar¬ 
ing,  to  what  condition  your  banishment  has  reduced  us.  Think 
with  yourself  whether  we  are  not  the  most  unhappy  of  women, 
wdien  fortune  has  changed  the  spectacle  that  should  have  been 
the  most  pleasing  in  the  world,  into  the  most  dreadful;  when 
Volumnia  beholds  her  son,  and  Vergilia  her  husband,  encamp¬ 
ed  in  a  hostile  manner  before  the  walls  of  his  native  city;  and 
what  to  others  is  the  greatest  consolation  under  misfortune  and 
adversity,  I  mean  prayer  to  the  gods,  to  us  is  rendered  im¬ 
practicable;  for  we  can  not  at  the  same  time  beg  victory  for 
our  country  and  your  preservation,  but  what  our  worst  ene¬ 
mies  would  imprecate  on  us  as  a  curse,  must  of  necessity  be 
interwoven  with  our  prayers.  Your  wife  and  children  must 
either  see  their  country  perish,  or  you.  As  to  my  own  part, 
I  will  not  live  to  see  (his  war  decided  by  fortune.  If  I  can 
not  persuade  you  to  prefer  friendship  and  union  to  enmity  and 
its  ruinous  consequences,  and  so  to  become  a  benefactor  to 

*  Valeria  first  gave  advice  of  this  design  to  the  consuls,  who  proposed  it 
in  the  senate,  where,  after  long  debates,  it  was  approved  of  by  the  fathers. 
Then  Veturia,  and  the  most  illustrious  of  the  Roman  matrons,  in  chariots 
which  the  consuls  had  ordered  to  be  vo*  ™>adv  for  th?  m.  took  the k  wav  to 
I  he  enemy’s  camp. 


432 


CAIUS  MARCIUS  CORIOLANUS. 


both  sides,  rather  than  the  destruction  of  one,  you  must  take 
this  along  with  you,  and  prepare  to  expect  it,  that  you  shall 
not  advance  against  your  country,  without  trampling  upon  the 
dead  body  of  her  that  bore  you;  for  it  does  not  become  me  to 
wait  for  that  day,  when  my  son  shall  be  either  led  captive  by 
his  fellow  citizens,  or  triumph  over  Rome.  If,  indeed,  I  de¬ 
sired  you  to  save  your  country  by  ruining  the  Volscians,  I 
confess  the  case  would  be  hard,  and  the  choice  difficult;  for  it 
would  neither  be  honourable  to  destroy  your  countrymen,  nor 
just  to  betray  those  who  have  placed  tneir  confidence  in  you 
But  what  do  we  desire  of  you,  more  than  deliverance  from 
our  own  calamities?  A  deliverance  which  will  be  equally 
salutary  to  both  parties,*  but  most  to  the  honour  of  the  Voh 
scians,  since  it  will  appear  that  their  superiority  empowered 
them  t  j  grant  us  the  greatest  of  blessings,  peace  and  friend¬ 
ship,  while  they  themselves  receive  the  same.  If  these  take 
place,  yon  will  be  acknowledged  to  be  the  principal  cause  of 
them:  if  they  do  not,  you  alone  must  expect  to  bear  the  blame 
from  both  nations;  and  though  the  chance  of  war  is  uncertain, 
yet  it  will  be  the  certain  event  of  this,  that  if  you  conquer, 
you  will  be  a  destroying  demon  to  your  country;  if  you  are 
beaten,  it  will  be  clear  that,  by  indulging  your  resentment, 
you  have  plunged  your  friends  and  benefactors  in  the  greatest 
of  misfortunes.55 

Coriolanus  listened  to  his  mother  while  she  went  on  vvitl 
her  speech,  without  saying  the  least  word  to  her;  and  Yolum- 
nia  seeing  him  stand  a  long  time  mute  after  she  had  left  speak¬ 
ing,  proceeded  again  in  this  manner: — “  Why  are  you  silent, 
my  son?  Is  it  an  honour  to  yield  every  thing  to  anger  and 
resentment;  and  would  it  be  a  disgrace  to  yield  to  your  mo¬ 
ther  in  so  important  a  petition?  Or  does  it  become  a  great 
man  to  remember  the  injuries  done  him;  and  would  it  not 
equally  become  a  great  and  good  man,  with  the  highest  regart 
and  reverence,  to  keep  in  mind  the  benefits  he  has  received 
from  his  parents?  Surely  you,  of  all  men,  should  take  care 
to  be  grateful,  who  have  suffered  so  extremely  by  ingratitude; 
and  yet,  though  you  have  already  severely  punished  ycur 
country,  you  have  not  made  your  mother  the  least  return  for 
her  kindness.  The  most  sacred  ties,  both  of  nature  and  reli 
gion,  without  any  other  constraint,  require  that  you  should  in¬ 
dulge  me  in  this  just  and  reasonable  request;  but  if  words  can 
not  prevail,  this  only  resource  is  left.5’  When  she  had  said 
this,  she  threw  herself  at  his  feet,  together  with  his  wife  and 
children;  upon  which  Coriolanus,  crying  out, — “0!  mother, 

*  She  Deg'ged  a  truce  for  a  year,  that  in  that  time  measures  might  be 
taken  for  settling  a  solid  and  lasting  peace. 


CAIUS  MARCIUS  C0R10LANUS. 


*33 


what  is  it  you  have  done?”  raised  her  from  the  ground,  and, 
tenderly  pressing  her  hand,  continued, — “  You  have  gained  a 
victory  fortunate  for  your  country,  but  ruinous  to  me.  *  I  go, 
vanquished  by  you  alone. ”  Then,  after  a  short  conference 
with  his  mother  and  wife,  in  private,  he  sent  them  back  to 
Rome,  agreeably  to  their  desire.  Next  morning  he  drew  off 
the  Yolscians,  who  had  not  all  the  same  sentiments  of  what' 
had  passed.  Some  blamed  him;  others,  whose  inclinations 
were  for  peace,  found  no  fault;  others,  again,  though  they  dis¬ 
liked  what  was  done,  did  not  look  upon  Coriolanus  as  a  bad 
man,  but  thought  he  was  excusable  in  yielding  to  such  power¬ 
ful  solicitations.  However,  none  presumed  to  contradict  his 
orders,  though  they  followed  him  rather  out  of  veneration  for 
1  is  virtue  than  regard  to  his  authority. 

The  sense  of  the  dreadful  and  dangerous  circumstances 
w  hich  the  Roman  people  had  been  in  Hy  reason  of  the  war, 
never  appeared  so  strong  as  when  they  were  delivered  from 
it  For  no  sooner  did  they  perceive  from  the  walls,  that  the 
Volscians  were  drawing  off,  than  all  the  temples  were  opened 
and  filled  with  persons  crowned  wTith  garlands,  and  offering 
sacrifice,  as  for  some  great  victory.  But  in  nothing  was  the 
public  joy  more  evident,  than  in  the  affectionate  regard  and 
honour  which  both  the  senate  and  people  paid  the  women, 
whom  they  both  considered  and  declared  the  means  of  their 
preservation.  Nevertheless,  when  the  senate  decreed, t  that 
whatever  they  thought  would  contribute  most  to  their  glory 
and  satisfaction,  the  consuls  should  take  care  to  see  it  done, 
they  only  desired  that  a  temple  might  be  built  to  the  fortune 
of  women,  the  expense  of  which  they  offered  to  defray  them 
selves,  requiring  the  commonwealth  to  be  at  no  other  charge 
than  that  of  sacrifices,  and  such  a  solemn  service  as  was  suita 
ble  to  the  majesty  of  the  gods.  The  senate,  though  they  com¬ 
mended  their  generosity,  ordered  the  temple  and  shrine  to  be 
erected  at  the  public  charge;^  but  the  women  contributed 
their  money  notwithstanding,  and  with  it  provided  another 
image  of  the  goddess,  which  the  Romans  report,  when  it 
was  set  up  in  the  temple,  to  have  uttered  these  words:  0  wo- 


*  He  well  foresaw  that  the  Volscians  would  never  forgive  him  the  favout 
he  did  their  enemies. 

\  It  was  decreed  that  an  encomium  of  those  matrons  should  be  engraven 
on  a  public  monument. 

*  It  was  erected  in  the  Latin  way,  about  four  miles  from  Rome,  on  the 
pi  ice  where  Veturia  had  overcome  the  obstinacy  of  her  son.  Valeria,  who 
had  proposed  so  successful  a  deputation,  was  the  first  priestess  of  this  tern* 
p!'*,  which  was  much  frequented  by  the  Roman  women. — Dion.  Halica * 
p.  479,  480.  Liv.  lib.  ii.  c.  40. 

V^ol.  1. —  3  L 


38 


434 


CAIUS  MAIiCIUS  CORIOLANUS. 


men!  most  acceptable  to  the  gods  is  this  your  pious 

GIFT. 

They  fabulously  report  that  this  voice  was  repeated  twice, 
thus  offering  to  our  faith  things  that  appear  impossible.  In¬ 
deed  we  will  not  deny  that  images  may  have  sweated,  may 
have  been  covered  with  tears,  and  emitted  drops  like  blood. 
For  wood  and  stone  often  contract  a  scurf  and  mouldiness, 
that  produce  moisture;  and  they  not  only  exhibit  many  dif¬ 
ferent  colours  themselves,  but  receive  variety  of  tinctures  from 
the  ambient  air;  at  the  same  time,  there  is  no  reason  why  the 
Deity  may  not  make  use  of  these  signs  to  announce  things  to 
come.  It  is  also  very  possible,  that  a  sound  like  that  of  a 
sigh  or  a  groan  may  proceed  from  a  statue,  by  the  rupture  or 
violent  separation  of  some  of  the  interior  parts;  but  that  an 
articulate  voice  and  expression  clear,  so  full  and  perfect, 
should  fall  from  a  thing  inanimate,  is  out  of  all  the  bounds 
of  possibility;  for  neither  the  soul  of  man,  nor  even  God  him¬ 
self,  can  utter  vocal  sounds,  and  pronounce  words,  without 
an  organized  body  and  parts  fitted  for  utterance.  Wherever, 
then,  history  asserts  such  things,  and  bears  us  down  with  the 
testimony  of  many  credible  witnesses,  we  must  conclude,  that 
some  impression,  not  unlike  that  of  sense,  influenced  the  ima¬ 
gination,  and  produced  the  belief  of  a  real  sensation;  as  in 
sleep  we  seem  to  hear  what  we  hear  not,  and  to  see  what  we 
do  not  see.  As  for  those  persons,  who  are  possessed  with 
such  a  strong  sense  of  religion,  that  they  can  not  reject  any 
thing  of  this  kind,  they  found  their  faith  on  the  wonderful 
and  incomprehensible  power  of  God;  for  there  is  no  manner 
of  resemblance  between  him  and  a  human  being,  either  in  his 
nature,  his  wisdom,  his  power,  or  his  operations.  If,  there¬ 
fore,  he  performs  something  which  we  can  not  effect,  and 
executes  what  with  us  is  impossible,  there  is  nothing  in  this 
contradictory  to  reason;  since,  though  he  far  excels  us  in 
every  thing,  yet  the  dissimilitude  and  distance  between  him 
and  us  appears  most  of  all  in  the  works  which  he  hath  wrought. 
But  much  knowledge  of  things  divine ,  as  Heraclitus  affirms,  escapes 
us  through  want  of  faith. 

When  Coriolanus  returned,  after  this  expedition,  to  An- 
tium,  Tullus,  who  both  hated  and  feared  him,  resolved  to  as 
sassinate  him  immediately;  being  persuaded,  that  if  he  missed 
this,  he  should  not  have  such  another  opportunity.  First, 
therefore,  he  collected  and  prepared  a  number  of  accomplices, 
and  then  called  upon  Coriolanus  to  divest  himself  of  his  au 
thority,  and  give  an  account  of  his  conduct  to  the  Volscians 
Dreading  the  consequence  of  being  reduced  to  a  private  sta- 
tion,  while  Tullus,  who  had  so  great  an  interest  with  his 
countrymen,  was  in  power,  he  made  answer,  that  if  the  Vol 


CAIUS  MARCIUS  CORIOLANUS. 


436 


$c/»ans  required  it,  he  would  give  up  his  commission,  and  not 
otherwise,  since  he  had  taken  it  at  their  common  request;  but 
that  he  was  ready  to  give  an  account  of  his  behaviour  even 
then,  if  the  citizens  ot  Antium  would  have  it  so.  Hereupon, 
they  met  in  full  assembly,  and  some  of  the  orators  that  were 
prepared  for  it,  endeavoured  to  exasperate  the  populace  against 
him.  But  when  Coriolanus  stood  up,  the  violence  cf  the  tu¬ 
mult  abated,  and  he  had  liberty  to  speak:  the  best  part  of  the 
people  of  Antium,  and  those  that  were  most  inclined  to  peace, 
appearing  ready  to  hear  him  with  candour,  and  to  pass  sen¬ 
tence  with  equity.  Tullus  was  then  afraid  that  he  would 
make  but  too  good  a  defence;  for  he  was  an  eloquent  man, 
and  the  former  "advantages  which  he  had  procured  the  nation, 
outweighed  his  present  offence.  Nay,  the  very  impeach¬ 
ment  was  a  clear  proof  of  the  greatness  of  the  benefits  he  had 
conferred  upon  them;  for  they  would  never  have  thought 
themselves  injured  in  not  conquering  Rome,  if  they  had  not 
been  near  taking  it  through  his  means.  The  conspirators, 
therefore,  judged  it  prudent  not  to  wait  any  longer,  or  to  try 
the  multitude;  and  the  boldest  cf  their  faction,  crying  out 
that  a  traitor  ought  not  to  be  heard,  or  suffered  by  the  Vol 
scians  to  act  the  tyrant,  and  refuse  to  lay  down  his  authority* 
rushed  upon  him  in  a  body,  and*  killed  him  on  the  spot;  not 
one  that  was  present  lifting  a  hand  to  defend  him.  It  was 
soon  evident  that  this  was  not  done  with  the  general  approba¬ 
tion;  for  they  assembled  from  several  cities  to  give  his  body 
an  honourable  burial, t  and  adorned  his  monument  with  arms 
and  spoils  as  became  a  distinguished  warrior  and  general. 

When  the  Romans  were  informed  of  his  death,  they  showed 

*  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  says  they  stoned  him  to  death. 

■f  They  dressed  him  in  his  general’s  robes*  and  laid  his  corpse  on  a  mag- 
nificient  bier,  which  was  carried  by  such  young  officers  as  were  most  dis¬ 
tinguished  for  their  martial  exploits.  Before  him  were  borne  the  spoils  he 
had  taken  from  the  enemy,  the  crowns  he  had  gained,  and  plans  of  the 
cities  he  had  taken.  In  this  order  his  body  was  laid  on  the  pile,  while 
several  victims  were  slain  in  honour  to  his  memory.  When  the  pile  was 
consumed  they  gathered  up  his  ashes,  which  they  interred  on  the  spot,  and 
erected  a  magnificent  monument  there.  Coriolanus  was  slain  in  the  se¬ 
cond  year  of  the  seventy-third  Olympiad,  in  the  two  hundred  and  sixty- 
sixth  year  of  Rome,  and  eight  years  after  his  first  campaign.  According  to 
this  account,  he  died  in  the  flower  of  his  age;  but  Livy  informs  us  from 
Fabius,  a  very  ancient  author,  that  he  lived  till  he  was  very  old;  and  that 
in  the  decline  of  life  he  was  wont  to  say  that,  “A  state  of  exile  was  always 
uncomfortable,  but  more  so  to  an  old  man  than  to  another.”  We  can  not, 
however,  think  that  Coriolanus  grew  old  among  the  Volscians.  Had  he 
done  so,  his  counsels  would  have  preserved  them  from  ruin;  and  after  Tul- 
Jus  was  slain,  he  would  have  restored  their  affairs,  and  have  got  them  ad¬ 
mitted  to  the  rights  and  privileges  of  Roman  citizens,  in  the  same  manner 
as  the  Latins. 


43b  ALCIBIADES  AND  CORIOLANUS  COMPARED. 


no  sign  either  of  favour  or  resentment.  Only  they  permitted 
the  women,  at  their  request,  to  go  into  mourning  for  ten 
months,  as  they  used  to  do  for  a  father,  a  son,  or  a  brother: 
this  being  the  longest  term  for  mourning  allowed  by  Numa 
Pompilius,  as  we  have  mentioned  in  his  life. 

The  Volscian  affairs  soon  wanted  the  abilities  of  Marcius; 
for,  first  of  all,  in  a  dispute  which  they  had  with  the  iEqui, 
their  friends  and  allies,  which  of  the  two  nations  should  give 
a  general  to  their  armies,  they  proceeded  to  blows,  and  a  num¬ 
ber  were  killed  and  wounded;  and  afterwards,  coming  to  a 
battle  with  the  Romans,  in  which  they  were  defeated,  and  Tul- 
lus,  together  with  the  flower  of  their  army,  slain,  they  were 
forced  to  accept  of  very  disgraceful  conditions  of  peace,  by 
which  they  were  reduced  to  the  obedience  of  Rome,  and  obli 
ged  to  accept  of  such  terms  as  the  conquerors  would  allow 
them. 


ALCIBIADES  AND  CORIOLANUS 


COMPARED. 


Having  now  given  a  detail  of  all  the  actions  of  these  two 
great  men,  that  we  thought  worthy  to  be  known  and  remem¬ 
bered,  we  may  perceive  at  one  glance,  that  as  to  their  milita¬ 
ry  exploits  the  balance  is  nearly  even;  for  both  gave  extraor¬ 
dinary  proofs  of  courage  as  soldiers,  and  of  prudence  and  ca¬ 
pacity  as  commanders-in-chief:  though,  perhaps,  some  may 
think  Alcibiades  the  more  complete  general,  on  account  of  his 
many  successful  expeditions  at  sea  as  well  as  land.  But  this 
is  common  to  both,  that  when  they  had  the  command,  and 
fought  in  person*  the  affairs  of  their  country  infallibly  pros¬ 
pered,  and  as  infallibly  declined  when  they  went  over  to  the 
enemy. 

As  to  their  behaviour  in  point  of  government,  if  the  licen¬ 
tiousness  of  Alcibiades,  and  his  compliances  with  the  humour 
of  the  populace,  were  abhorred  by  the  wise  and  sober  part  of 
the  Athenians;  the  proud  and  forbidding  manner  of  Coriolanus, 
and  his  excessive  attachment  to  the  patricians,  were  equally 
detested  by  the  Roman  people.  In  this  respect,  therefore, 
neither  of  them  is  to  be  commended;  though  he  that  avails 


ALCIBIADES  AND  CORIOLANUS  COMPARED. 


437 


himself  of  popular  arts,  and  shows  too  much  indulgence,  is 
ess  blameable  than  he,  who,  to  avoid  the  imputation  of  obse- 

3uiousness,  treats  the  people  with  severity.  It  is,  indeed,  a 
isgrace  to  attain  to  power  by  flattering  them;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  to  pursue  it  by  acts  of  insolence  and  oppression, 
is  not  only  shameful  but  unjust. 

That  Coriolanus  had  an  openness  and  simplicity  of  manners, 
is  a  point  beyond  dispute,  whilst  Alcibiades  was  crafty  and 
dark  in  the  proceedings  of  his  administration.  The  latter  has 
been  most  blamed  for  the  trick  which  he  put  upon  the  Lace¬ 
daemonian  ambassadors,  as  Thucydides  tells  us,  and  by  which 
he  renewed  the  war.  Yet  this  stroke  of  policy,  though  it 
plunged  xAthens  again  in  war,  rendered  the  alliance  with  the 
Mantineans  and  Argives,  which  was  brought  about  by  Alci¬ 
biades,  much  stronger  and  more  respectable.  But  was  not 
Coriolanus  chargeable  with  a  falsity,  too,  when,  as  Dionysius 
informs  us,  he  stirred  up  the  Romans  against  the  Volscians,  by 
loading  the  latter  with  an  infamous  calumny  when  they  went 
to  see  the  public  games?  The  cause,  too,  makes  this  action  the 
more  criminal;  for  it  was  not  by  ambition  or  a  rival  spirit  in 
politics  that  he  was  influenced,  as  Alcibiades  was,  but  he  did 
it  to  gratify  his  anger,  a  passion  which ,  as  Dion  says,  is  ever  un¬ 
grateful  to  its  votaries .  By  this  means  he  disturbed  all  Italy, 
and  in  his  quarrel  with  his  country  destroyed  many  cities 
which  had  never  done  him  any  injury.  Alcibiades,  indeed, 
was  the  author  of  many  evils  to  the  Athenians,  but  was  easily 
reconciled  to  them  when  he  found  that  they  repented.  Nay  , 
when  he  was  driven  a  second  time  into  exile,  he  could  not  bear 
with  patience  the  blunders  committed  by  the  new  generals,  nor 
see  with  indifference  the  dangers  to  which  they  were  exposed; 
but  observed  the  same  conduct  which  Aristides  is  so  highly 
extolled  for  with  respect  to  Themistocles.  He  went  in  per¬ 
son  to  those  generals,  who,  he  knew,  were  not  his  friends,  and 
showed  them  what  steps  it  was  proper  for  them  to  take. 
Whereas  Coriolanus  directed  his  revenge  against  the  whole 
commonwealth,  though  he  had  not  been  injured  by  the  whole, 
but  the  best  and  most  respectable  part  both  suffered  and  sym¬ 
pathized  with  him.  And  afterwards,  when  the  Romans  en¬ 
deavoured  to  make  satisfaction  for  that  single  grievance  by 
many  embassies  and  much  submission,  he  was  not  in  the  least 
pacified  or  won;  but  showed  himself  determined  to  prosecute 
a  cruel  war,  not  in  order  to  procure  his  return  to  his  native 
country,  but  to  conquer  and  to  ruin  it.  It  may,  indeed,  be 
granted,  that  there  was  this  difference  in  the  case;  Alcibiades 
returned  to  the  Athenians,  when  the  Spartans,  who  both  fear¬ 
ed  and  hated  him,  intended  to  despatch  him  privately.  But  il 
was  r.ot  so  honourable  in  Coriolanus  to  desert  the  Volscians, 


438  ALCIBIADES  AMD  C0R10LANUS  COMPARED. 

who  had  treated  him  with  the  utmost  kindness,  appointed  him 
general  with  full  authority,  and  reposed  in  him  the  highest 
confidence;  very  different  in  this  respect  from  Alcibiades,  who 
was  abused,  to  their  own  purposes,  rather  than  employed  and 
trusted  by  the  Lacedaemonians;  and  who,  after  having  been 
tossed  about  in  their  city  and  their  camp,  w&>  at  last  obliged 
to  put  himself  in  the  hands  of  Tissaphernes.  But,  perhaps, 
he  made  his  court  to  the  Persian,*  in  order  to  prevent  the  ut¬ 
ter  ruin  of  his  country,  to  which  he  was  desirous  to  return. 

History  informs  us,  that  Alcibiades  often  took  bribes,  which 
he  lavished  again  with  equal  discredit  upon  his  vicious  plea¬ 
sures;  while  Coriolanus  refused  to  receive  even  what  the  ge¬ 
nerals  he  served  under  would  have  given  him  with  honour 
Hence  the  behaviour  of  the  latter  was  the  more  detested  by 
the  people  in  the  disputes  about  debts;  since  it  was  not  with 
a  view  to  advantage,  but  out  of  contempt  and  by  way  of  in¬ 
sult,  as  they  thought,  that  He  bore  so  hard  upon  them. 

Antipater,  in  one  of  his  epistles,  where  he  speaks  of  the 
death  of  Aristotle  the  philosopher,  tells  us,  — “  That  great  man 
besides  his  other  extraordinary  talents,  had  the  art  of  insinua 
ting  himself  into  the  affections  of  those  he  conversed  with.*' 
For  want  of  this  talent,  the  great  actions  and  virtues  of  Corio¬ 
lanus  were  odious  even  to  those  who  received  the  benefit  of 
them,  and  who,  notwithstanding,  could  not  endure  that  auste¬ 
rity  which ,  as  Plato  says,  is  the  companion  of  solitude.  But  a s 
Alcibiades,  on  the  other  hand,  knew  how  to  treat  those  with 
whom  he  conversed,  with  an  engaging  civility,  it  is  no  won¬ 
der  if  the  glory  of  his  exploits  flourished  in  the  favour  and 
honourable  regard  of  mankind,  since  his  very  faults  had  some¬ 
times  their  grace  and  elegance.  Hence  it  was,  that  though  his 
conduct  was  often  very  prejudicial  to  Athens,  yet  he  was  fre 
uuently  appointed  commander-in-chief;  while  Coriolanus,  after 
many  great  achievements,  with  the  best  pretensions,  sued  for 
the  consulship,  and  lost  it.  The  former  deserved  to  be  hated 
by  his  countrymen,  and  was  not;  the  latter  was  not  beloved, 
though  at  the  same  time  he  was  admired. 

We  should,  moreover,  consider,  that  Coriolanus  performed 
io  considerable  services  while  he  commanded  the  armies  of 
lis  country,  though  for  the  enemy  against  his  country  he  did; 
but  that  Alcibiades,  both  as  a  soldier  and  a  general,  did  great 
things  for  the  Athenians.  When  amongst  his  fellow-citizens, 
Alcibiades  was  superior  to  all  the  attempts  of  his  enemies, 

*  For  he  prevented  Tissaphernes  from  assisting  the  Spartans  with  all  his 
forces.  Thus  he  served  the  Athenians  and  the  Persians  at  the  same  time; 
fer  it  was  undoubtedly  the  interest  of  the  Persians  to  preserve  the  two  lead¬ 
ing  powers  of  Greece  in  a  condition  to  annoy  each  other,  and,  in  the  mean 
time,  to  reap  the  advantage  themselves. 


ALCIBIA.DES  AND  CORIOLANUS  COMPARED.  439 

though  their  calumnies  prevailed  against  him  in  his  absence; 
whereas  Coriolanus  was  condemned  by  the  Romans,  though 
present  to  defend  himself,  and  at  length  killed  by  the  Volsci- 
ans,  against  all  rights,  indeed,  whether  human  or  divine: 
nevertheless,  he  afforded  them  a  colour  for  what  they  did,  by 
granting  that  peace  to  the  entreaties  of  the  women,  which  he 
had  refused  to  the  application  of  the  ambassadors;  by  that 
means  leaving  the  enmity  between  the  two  nations,  and  the 
grounds  of  the  war  entire,  and  losing  a  very  favourable  oppor¬ 
tunity  for  the  Volscians.  For  surely  he  would  not  have  drawn 
off  the  forces  without  the  consent  of  those  that  committed 
them  to  his  conduct,  if  he  had  sufficiently  regarded  his  duty 
to  them. 

But  if,  without  considering  the  Volscians  in  the  least,  he 
consulted  his  resentment  only  in  stirring  up  the  war,  and  put 
a  period  to  it  again  when  that  was  satisfied,  he  should  not  have 
spared  his  country  on  his  mothers  account,  but  have  spared 
her  with  it;  for  both  his  mother  and  wife  made  a  part  of  his 
native  city,  which  he  was  besieging.  But  inhumanly  to  re¬ 
ject  the  supplication  and  entreaties  of  the  ambassadors,  and 
the  petition  of  the  priests,  and  then  to  consent  to  a  retreat  in 
favour  of  his  mother,  was  not  doing  honour  to  his  mother,  but 
bringing  disgrace  upon  his  country;  since  if  it  was  not  worthy 
to  be  saved  for  its  own  sake,  it  appeared  to  be  saved  only  in 
compassion  to  a  woman.  For  the  favour  was  invidious,  and 
so  far  from  being  engaging,  that,  in  fact,  it  savoured  of  cruel¬ 
ty,  and  consequently  was  unacceptable  to  both  parties.  He 
retired  without  being  won  by  the  supplications  of  those  he  was 
at  war  with,  and  without  consent  of  those  for  wThom  he  under 
took  it.  The  cause  of  all  which  was,  the  austerity  of  his  man¬ 
ners,  his  arrogance,  and  inflexibility  of  mind,  things  hateful 
enough  to  the  people  at  ail  times;  but,  wffien  united  with  am¬ 
bition,  savage  and  intolerable.  Persons  of  his  temper,  as  if 
they  had  no  need  of  honours,  neglect  to  ingratiate  themselves 
with  the  multitude,  and  yet  are  excessively  chagrined  when 
those  are  denied  them.  It  is  true,  neither  Metellus,  nor  Aris¬ 
tides,  nor  Epaminondas,  were  pliant  to  the  people’s  humour, 
or  could  submit  to  flatter  them;  but  then  they  had  a  thorough 
contempt  of  every  thing  that  the  people  could  either  give  or 
take  away;  and  when  they  were  banished,  or,  on  any  other 
occasion,  miscarried  in  their  suffrages,  or  were  condemned  in 
large  lines,  they  nourished  no  anger  against  their  ungrateful 
countrymen,  but  were  satisfied  with  their  repentance,  and  re¬ 
conciled  to  them  at  their  request.  And,  surely,  he  who  is 
sparing  in  his  assiduities  to  the  people,  can  but  with  an  ill 
grace  think  of  revenging  ar  v  slight  he  may  suffer;  for  extreme 


440  ALCIBIADES  AND  CORrOLANUS  COMPARED. 

resentment,  in  case  of  disappointment  in  a  pursuit  of  honour 
must  be  the  eflect  of  an  extreme  desire  of  it. 

Alcibiades;  for  his  part,' readdy  acknowledged  that  he  was 
charmed  with  honours,  and  that  he  was  Very  uneasy  at  being 
neglected;  and  therefore  he  endeavoured  to  recommend  him¬ 
self  to  those  he  had  to  do  with,  by  every  engaging  art.  But 
the  pride  of  Coriolanus  would  not  permit  him  to  make  his  court 
to  thos^vho  were  capable  of  conferring  honours  upon  him; 
and  at  the  same  time  his  ambition  filled  him  with  regret  and 
indignation  when  they  passed  him  by.  This,  then,  is  the 
blameable  part  of  his  character;  all  the  rest  is  great  and  glori¬ 
ous.  *  In  point  of  temperance  and  disregard  of  riches,  he  is  fit 
to  be  compared  with  the  most  illustrious  examples  of  integrity 
in  Greece,  and  not  with  Alcibiades,  who,  in  this  respect,  was 
the  most  profligate  of  men,  and  had  the  least  regard  for  de~ 
eency  and  honour. 


E2IP  OJ  vex..  5. 


